


Safe Keeping

by V_mum



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: AUs, Brotherly Papyrus, Brotherly Sans, Character Death, Child Abuse, Child Death, Child Neglect, F/F, Gen, Skeleton family, Violence, Younger Frisk, will contain tw:
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-19
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-23 12:09:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 20,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8327290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/V_mum/pseuds/V_mum
Summary: the timelines always change, and theres always something new, just when Sans thinks he's seen everything that can happen.this time around, though, hes really been thrown a curve ball. Toriel came out of the ruins, the kids never been this young before, they've never had LV 0 before, and this Frisk is is even stranger than before. This just isnt how things are supposed to go.





	1. S T A R T

Sans had always known who the woman behind the door was. who Toriel was.

The name Toriel was the name of Queen, was the name of a beloved woman known for taking in the innocent, the injured, or the weak.

Toriel was the name of the woman who was the mother of the first human to ever come upon the underground.

Toriel was the name of the queen who ran away from being the queen, who divorced their now ex husband Asgore, when the King declared war upon the humans.

Sans had heard the voice of Toriel many times, either over the TV or from hearing her voice and seeing her at random during his days as Assistant to the Royal Scientist. Of course, that was back when they Royal Scientist still existed.

So when The Queen, whom had supposedly run away to the runes, started talking to him through the door…

He knew who she was.

It was hard not to make that intuitive leap.

She carried the same voice and had that same gentleness, and she just happened to be on the other side of the locked door where the Queen, Toriel, had run to.

Imagine his delight when Sans learned that the revered and well known Queen of the Underground was as big a dork for bad jokes and puns as he was.

No less, Sans knew he could trust this woman. Either because there could be no evil in someone who liked to tell knock knock jokes, or because of her reputation as the queen. It didn’t matter, Sans knew Toriel had outstanding judgment and that she was… good.

Which is why timeline after timeline, he made that promise to her.

He’d protect the kid she so loved- whether that child who inevitably came through the doors carried her very dust on the sleeves of their sweater, or they came out as gentle and friendly as the once-queen herself.

It always killed him a little inside every time he had to put the former, the dark child, down in the great hall. He really hated promises.

But for Toriel, he would try. He would try to keep that promise.

Every timeline was different.

Many had similar outcomes.

There were too many dark lines that faded and mingled amongst each other, but they still varied; sometimes Alphys couldn’t pull off the evacuation in time and the blood slaughter was thicker. That was a major example- a smaller example came when sometimes, the dark hearted murder child would hum to the sweet shyren, and then kill her- and others, kill her immediately. That was a smaller example. There were hundreds of little details, but the dark ones were always the worst.

The good ones varied, too. Sometimes the kid would never befriend Undyne, and others, someone did die along the way. Sometimes the kid had no choice but to kill Asgore, and others, they managed not to, somehow.

One time, Pap got stuck out in the forest, right at the wrong time, the time the murder version of the kid normally killed him. Sans had all but disappeared to the judgment hall and had been all but ready to kill the kid, but when they finally go there, they had no LV or EXP—and Papyrus had been with them, on top of it; Frisk had apparently just helped him out when Pap had gotten stuck, and he was tagging along. Sans had broken down and started bawling much to both of their confusion. That had been one heck of a timeline.

The timelines always managed to pull the rug out from under his feet at times; just like that one.

One time, the kid came out of the door, covered in white dust, and Sans felt fury- only to be put in shock when the kid was definitely not the murder-mode one; and then to find out they had helped Toriel bake a pie earlier and were only covered in _flour_. Another time, Sans thought the kid was good, fine, the _good_ kid, and they WERE, they were the good kid, he thought everything was safe- only for them to freak out and have some sort of panic attack when Papyrus challenged and tried to capture them like always, and _accidentally_ killed his brother.

That one had really gotten Sans; he couldn’t figure out if he was furious like a murderous kid timeline or if he still saw the kid as a good kid. Luckily, it didn’t matter; the kid took off running while in the midst of the panic attack and ran into Waterfall- straight into Undyne, whom killed them. That timeline ended there. Sans still tried not to think about it.

The days and times the key events that happened in most every timeline also changed. Sans always got _the feeling_ when the day came; when Frisk would come through that door, or when Toriel would ask him to make that promise, or feel despite still being in snowdin if the kid died somewhere; he always had a feeling with every step.

The current timeline was no different.

Today, he got that feeling.

Today always had a feeling, this day never changed.

Today was the day Sans woke up to that feeling and realized the world had reset—and that Frisk had just fallen.

Today, like it was every time, was the day Frisk fell into the underground.


	2. P R O M I S E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> anything for toriel.

Sans was waiting.

He had that sick feeling in his nonexistent gut.

He was waiting, sitting against the big stone door- locked from the other side- one the cold snow. He could feel the cold, but it didn’t bother him. Temperature never bothered him. though, he preferred warmth.

He was waiting for Toriel.

He had that feeling again. He was waiting for Toriel to come.

She would, she would come. She’d sound sad and exhausted and she’d ask him.

She’d ask him that if a human child ever came through these doors, that he’d protect them.

He sat, contemplating as he waited, if this time he refused to make the promise. He’d thought about saying so a couple of timeline. And this last one, the last timeline that had reset, he’d seen the kid himself, kicking his brothers ashes.

The memory made him furious.

_Maybe I will. Maybe I will say I won’t do it this time. Maybe I’ll just kill the kid on sight when they walk through the door this go around._

Empty threats.

As much as he would love to kill the murderer so easily, before anyone could get hurt, he couldn’t hurt Toriel like that and deny her this request- it’s the only request she _ever_ asks of him, the only one- and as much as he hated the murderer, the sweet Frisk that comes out of that door and befriends pap is—well, Sans loves that kid, They’re his friend. He can’t hurt them, not when they’re good Frisk.

He’d wish a thousand times he was the first to see the kid- if they were the murder kid, he could put them down and no one would get hurt or attached. If they were good, then they could come out and have a life.

 _Looks like another promise, then._ He mentally sighs to himself, and continues to wait in the silence of the woods. He plays around absently to distract himself and keep from falling asleep- making small doodles in the snow with the edge of a bony finger tip, observing his habit of breathing that while serving no function just seems nice, catching the occasional near-drifting snow flake in the light fall of them from the micro-ecosystem clouds that form in their small underground world against the sparkling cavern ceiling.

Finally, after waiting for who knows how long, there’s sound coming from the other side of the door; footsteps.

He listens, and as he expects, Toriel’s voice calls across the barrier. “Are you there today, my friend?”

Sans sits up just a bit. “Knock knock.”

There’s a lot of warmth in Toriel’s’ voice when she responds, which is surprising to Sans. She isn’t tired, she isn’t sad- at least, not as she should be on this day in any previous timeline. “Who is there?”

“Doris.” Sans responded, standing up slowly, pressing his hands and the left side of his head, where and ear would be, to the door; as if to listen for the reason she was so different this time around.

“Doris who?” Toriel’s giggle only made Sans more curious.

“The Doris’ locked, like always, pal.” Sans finished, smile spreading just a bit when Toriel cracked up.

To his own shock, there was a second, smaller sound under her laugh, and it sounded achingly familiar. That tiny hummed giggle was definitely the kid.

And then, Sans had to back track several steps as the door creaked.

It was… _opening_.

To Sans’ complete and utter amazement, he stood there in total wide eye-socket-ed shock as the door opened all the way- not a crack like when the kid left normally, and standing there, Toriel held Frisk’s hand.

Only… that wasn’t quite the 13 year old kid who he knew as Frisk.

That kid- was at the oldest, 7, maybe 8 at a stretch. Probably not though.

Why were they so young?

Why Toriel _willfully opening the doors_?

What was even going on?

“Oh- my, it’s very cold out.” Toriel whispered to themselves, her eyes going over the snow topped trees. She hadn’t seen beyond the door in over a decade. She sank to one knee, letting go of the child’s hand long enough to adjust the kid’s blue, pink-stripped sweater—it was the same sweater from every time period, meaning on the for some reason younger kid, it was even bigger than it had been on them before. “My child, if I’d remembered, maybe I could have… found _something_ to help you brave it… such a chill…”

Frisk smiled and only leaned forward, leaving a small peck on the woman’s muzzle as a response.

Toriel smiled and blushed, “Oh, my child… I will miss you…” then, she slowly stood up, casting one last look over the trees and the surrounding snowy grounds.

Sans had regained his momentarily shocked composure and rather silently stepped forward, the faint crunch of the snow- flattened by the swinging of the massive doors over it- under foot as he moved. He stepped up to them and Toriel’s gaze found him now as he stopped just in front of them, jamming skeletal hands into his jacket pockets.

He said what he always said when he saw Toriel for the first time, in timelines other than the ones where the barrier is broken and Asgore is still alive.

“Wow. You know, I always imagined you smaller, Tori.” It’d been the first thing that had come to mind when he’d seen her for the first time. She talked so soft, he’d been surprised she was so tall. And then, like always, he added in a mischievous tone, “You kinda look like a certain lady I’ve seen in my history books.”

The former queen, like always, blushed at the remarks. She brushed off the reminder that she was once a queen, like always, and in the same light and warm tone, “And you a bit bigger, Sans. We’ll have to get you some meat on your bones, so short.”

He’d never tired of the meat on your bones joke, and his grin spread bigger, as did hers.

“Alright, _MOM_ ster, who’s the small one here?” Sans crouched lower to the kid’s level, letting a bit of the real wonder he was feeling leek into his expression.

Why were they so small, so young? What was going on? What was happening?

Frisk looked back at him with their own awe, one hand held in Toriel’s again. The other reached out somewhat slowly, and almost like they were afraid he’d be offended at the touch, lightly brushed his cheek bone. They looked down at their fingers with round eyes, stunned, and Sans found himself amused.

“Sans…” Toriel said gently, and the sadness in her tone was finally present, prompting him to look up. Her sad gaze rested on Frisk. “Sans…” she repeated, “This is Frisk. A human child. They fell the same place that other humans have.”

“I- I thought you told me you always tried to keep them inside? You know, the previous fallen humans, inside the ruins? To keep’em safe?” Sans stood up slowly, looking back down at Frisk as he did, but then to Toriel.

“My child…” Toriel sounded so very, very sad. “Told me, begged me… they can’t stay in the ruins.” Toriel looked to Sans, giving him an almost pained smile. “I don’t understand it… but they talk about a flower… being too close to the flower… to the flowers’ grave, of someone telling them they have to leave. They dream of snow and call it safe. They can’t stay here. They can’t. That’s what they say.”

Toriel’s finger runs gently over the knuckles of the child’s hand they are holding. “Sans… Yesterday… I was going… I was planning on coming to ask you a favor, if my child left the ruins… but I change my mind… I know you don’t like Promises, my dear friend… but I have… a very important one…”

This was changing his guide book. Toriel changed her mind about this? What had she decided? What was this change?

Promises.

Oh, how he hated promises. And he didn’t even know what this one was going to be.

But it was Toriel.

And… well, he had come here, ready to make a promise anyway.

“Anything for you, Tori.” Sans said, keeping his gaze focused on her.

Toriel smiled at him kindly. “Will you please promise me, Sans…” she murmured, and looked down to the child. Sans followed her gaze to Frisk who was looking up at Toriel with a warm smile. Toriel melted and looked sadder, like she was already missing them. “Will you promise me… you will take care of them?”

“Take care of…?” Sans trailed off slowly.

“Will you take care of them? Will you take care of them as they grow up in this monster’s world, with a life better than I could offer in my isolated little home?” Toriel looked up at him again.

This wasn’t just a promise.

This was a beg.

He was being completely entrusted with this kid this go around.

And he couldn’t deny Toriel when she was begging.


	3. W A L K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Timelines

The door closed behind them as they left.

Toriel locked it, as normal…

…but said to bring Frisk with him some time to talk…

…and maybe the two could come inside.

In all of Sans’ timelines, there had only been _one_ where Toriel didn’t lock the outside world away after Frisk. Toriel herself had come out of the ruins that time with the kid, after many years- Frisk had been about 18, 19 years old that timeline, and the two made up a small house in snowdin.

That timeline had lasted a very long time, Frisk under the guise of being a Monster that just happened to be humanoid and living life with Toriel in the friendly snow town, having grown up in the ruins. If Sans thought about it hard enough, he could remember up to Frisk’s 46th birthday in that timeline. He couldn’t remember specifics, but Frisk had died of a sickness that time.

This would be the second timeline Toriel didn’t entirely lock away the outside world—and although she was still in the ruins, it gave Sans some sort of strange sense of hope that Toriel was going to stay in contact.

Frisk even pulled out their cell phone as soon as the doors were closed and locked and called Toriel. They only said one word through the phone, “Mom.” As if checking to make sure Toriel was still there and wouldn’t stop talking to them. Like normally, Sans recalled; Toriel never took Frisk’s phone calls in other timelines. This time, Toriel answered, and hearing the child call them mom, Toriel had to unlock the door and rush back out into the snow for one more teary-eyed hug; Toriel proceeded to give the long winded mom speech about ‘being good and not going with strangers and eating healthy and staying safe’.

Toriel got up and gave Sans a hug, too, which startled him, but in the end he chuckled and hugged back, promising once again he’d take good care of the kid, and bring them back soon for a visit.

Before he knew it, he and Frisk were walking the path of snow through the underground forest of trees, one bony hand attached to the small fingers of a child, who’s warm grip wrapped around one of his bone digits.

There were various timelines where Frisk’s knowledge of the resets varied. Sometimes, they remembered everything- sadly, those timelines were most often the murderous child. Other times, they didn’t remember anything at all and had no idea what resets were, which were mostly the good kid timelines. There was anything in between, too. Timelines where they had distorted fuzzy memories, timelines where they seemed to have general ideas of what would happen next, timelines where after something major happened they suddenly remember doing that a hundred times before.

He wondered if this kid knew his name. He wondered what the kid did know. They had been worried about Toriel not answering their call; there was something in them, so it wasn’t an ‘absolutely no memories’ ordeal.

He wondered if this really was a good kid phase. It _could_ be a middle- a _neutral_ phase. Would they kill anyone? They hadn’t killed Toriel, but what about Papyrus, could he ever leave them alone together?

They mentioned the flower. Flowey. Flowey’s Grave. Sans memory of those final fights where, according to Frisks accounts through a couple various timelines, he’d become a lost soul and Frisk’d had to fight a god-mode Flowey the flower, were all fuzzy or not there at all. But again, he knew the story from Frisk telling him so- several times with varying degrees of memory themselves on timelines, so, Sans knew it had to be real. Flowey was once Asriel, by some twisted fate; a kid who died from refusing to fight back had become malicious and hateful in death. He knew Frisk always encountered Flowey after the fall; Toriel always ended up saving the child from the flower, also ironic; she was scaring off her son from her new child.

Frisk had mentioned needing to get away from the flower and the flowers grave. What was this about? Did they know about flowey? Did they know about flowey’s boss fights? How much did they know? Was the ‘friend’ that told them to leave Chara? He knew chara, too.

He glanced down upon the kid, wondering. He could ask. But there had been times when asking had triggered something in them that inevitably turned the child into the murder one. And there were times where asking about it made the kid freak out and have panic attacks, just like other topics.

Man, this kid really gave him a mental work out. Sans wondered if all humans were this complicated, or if it was just this one particular time anomaly?

Frisk suddenly tripped and released their grip on his hand, and fell face first into a snow poff. Sans, startled out of his thought, looked back down and stopped walking.

They looked up at him in surprise that gravity apparently worked, and then after a heartbeat, let out the smallest little sneeze.

His grin was huge and he cracked up.

Frisk looked up at him for a minute, and steadily, a few bubbled giggles filled the air between his own laughs, and steadily they grew louder as they laughed harder.

They stumbled up to their feet, face and sweater covered in snow and face flushed with cold, smiling as wide as him and looking strangely proud in themselves for a kid who just face planted.

“You know, kid, I think we’ll get along just fine.” Sans chuckled, offering them his hand again. They bounced forward and took the offer excitedly, smiling the whole walk.


	4. P R A I S E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you're gunna go far, kid

Sans was tempted to detour around Papyrus’ puzzles, seeing that Frisk was so much… smaller than normal. He promised to protect the kid, and while Papyrus certainly wasn’t dangerous, there had been a few timelines where the kid had died amongst them- accidental triggers of the big ‘final’ puzzle that Papyrus almost always decided not to use, or small accidents with what should have been harmless traps.

Not to mention the other sentries. While Papyrus was harmless, the rest were hired sentries to catch humans and wouldn’t hesitate to hurt the kid to capture them. Well, maybe some of them would hesitate. Greater dog would certainly hesitate, the big guy loved affection and hated to hurt.

No less, he stayed the usual course.

His normally conveniently positioned lamp was bigger and not-so-perfectly shaped and he felt it kind of killed his joke when he glanced at it this go round. He almost pouted. Instead, he guided Frisk around to his sentry post as he heard Papyrus stomping about in the distance, on his way over.

“Alright, Frisko, my Brother’s got a bit of human mania.” He explained lightly, still grinning, as he led the child by the hand around his counter. “He really wants to capture one, you see? Don’t worry, though, he’s not dangerous. Just hang out down here, it’sa good hiding place.” He added, carefully nudging the small thing into a sitting position under the counter. He wasn’t sure much about human children younger than the usual Frisk, but it certainly _looked_ more fragile than the normal them. He was half afraid he’d break them.

They curled up in the corner of the under space, tucking their knees up to their chest and wrapping their arms, concealed in massive sweater sleeves, around their bare legs. Their shorts at least seemed more appropriately sized for them at this age, even if the sweater was too big. They offered him a tiny, slightly nervous nod and a smile framed in messy brown locks with little flakes of snow in them.

He smirked and ruffled their hair as he heard his brother approaching, and straightened up to lean on the counter.

Sans went through the normal spiel. His brother ragged on his lazybones personality and accused him of being a bonedoggler. He heard the kid shift under the counter ever so slightly and a muffled giggle escape them had his skele-ton joke, which along with his brothers’ exasperated reaction made him all but glow with pride. Frisk had definitely gotten their goat-mom’s sense of humor this time around, which was great, even if he also liked the timelines where they were as exasperated about him as Papyrus.

In the end, Papyrus stormed off with a parade of Nye-he-he-hes, even came back in with a final ‘heh’ at the end, before leaving. Sans wasn’t sure about taking the kid through all the puzzles, so when he leaned back off the counter and squatted, he decided he’d gauge their reaction and actually let them decided this time; he always asked, but he always had them do it as per normal. This time, if they looked like they didn’t want to, he’d find them a shortcut home.

“What’d I tell you, kid? Isn’t my brother cool?”

Frisk nodded, smiling, and Sans beamed. “So you know… I got a favor to ask you, kiddo.”

The kid looked up on him curiously, and nodded before he could even say his ‘favor’. They were already smiling. They prompted him to continue.

“So my brother’s been down lately, you know? He’s never actually seen a human, and it’s his dream to find one- you heard’im, right? It’ll help him get into the royal guard.” Frisk nodded, “So… I was thinking, maybe running into you could make his day.”

Frisk bounced and clapped their hands excitedly, sliding out from where they were still under the counter. They wriggled excitedly, and Sans laughed. “Alright, kid, thanks a _ton_.”

He didn’t even need to finish his joke, because the kid spun to him and on a quiet, whispery voice, filled with excitement: “a _skeleton_.”

And then they looked at him, searching, hopeful for approval or worried of a scold.

Frisk found approval, as Sans swelled with pride. He chuckled heartily and Frisk straightened up, fingers linking together with _the_ biggest smile he had ever seen. Sans ruffled their hair and offered his hand; they took it immediately. “You’re a quick learner, kid.” This was _definitely_ going to be a good timeline.


	5. D E F E N C E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Flowers

Sans was very hesitant to leave the kid alone, but for the sake of pap and their excitement to meet him, Sans went on ahead, giving the kid instructions to wait 2, or 3 minutes tops before heading up the main path.

And so, Sans was standing there, listening to pap telling him something about Undyne (he suddenly was confronted with the concerns the fish woman might pose, but brushed it off for now to worry about Papyrus and the small human, a more current event), when the kid came through.

Running full speed, and with face running with tears. …pun not actually intended.

Gyftrot and Icecap were running at just a couple paces behind them.

Frisk spotted Sans at the last minute and angled for him, sliding to a stop and collapsing on all fours in front of him, gasping for purchase in the cold air to refill burning lungs.

Sans shifted, entirely expecting that the two monsters had been chasing them, ready to fling someone with magic should the need arrive. But as they ran closer, Sans noticed the tree-antlered monster was lacking in decorations; Frisk must have taken them off. Meaning there had been a positive interaction when the two ran into each other.

He was proven right when he noticed they certainly weren’t chasing Frisk, and when they reached the small human, they spun around in ready stances. Icecap shook his head and the deer-like Gyftrot stamped his hooves a couple of times, watching the path.

Sans looked from them, to the frantic- and bleeding?- Frisk, and looked up the path with narrowed eye sockets as he slowly leaned down to the kid, placing a skeletal hand on their shoulder.

And then he saw it.

Small, in the center of the path, a tiny yellow pedaled flower growing out of the snow.

Sans expression intensified and his glare became deadly as one eye sparked blue.

“SANS? SANS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Papyrus was beyond startled, confused with the sudden new company and all of the random aggression in the atmosphere. He also looked bewildered at the kid, he’d never seen them in the area of Snowdin, or a monster like that at all.

Sans didn’t say anything at first, not willing to look down from the random appearance of the flowery dead monster, but he knew he’d seen the red substance that needed to _stay_ inside the human, _outside_ of them. “Papyrus… check the kid for injuries.” Papyrus had better healing magic then Sans ever had, anyway. “I need to take care of something.”

Sans carefully helped Frisk stand, guiding them toward the taller skeleton, never once moving his gaze. Papyrus grabbed the kids’ arm and looked down at them, then back at Sans as his shorter brother started past the other two newly arrived monsters. Gyftrot and Icecap both glanced at Sans and backed up toward Papyrus and Frisk, still holding their ground and looking like bristled cat-monsters.

As the short skeleton made his way over the snow, the face on the flower became visible, and the sickeningly bright smile made him angrier.

“Howdy.” It greeted sarcastically as Sans drew closer.

“Flowers like you don’t grow in Snowdin.” Sans growled after stopping a couple feet away.

It sneered back at him. “Undead monsters like you should just be what they oughta be- _dead._ Go get a grave.”

“You and I both know you don’t belong here, not in this place.” Sans eyes the thing darkly. “What are you doing here?”

“Can’t you feel it, skele-boy?” Flowey’s expression twisted. “This aint your _usual_ timeline. don’t expect everything to stay the same.”

“ _What are you doing here?_ ” Sans repeated. He had been in too good a mood up until now to deal with a damn demon flower dodging questions.

“Don’t be so crude. It’s unbecoming.” Flowey’s face twisted distastefully.

Sans’ grin was reaching peak levels of terrifying and the flash of blue lighting up half his face only made the effect stronger. “You and I both know, flower, how something like this pans out. No matter the timeline. I will tear you to shreds. _Grow away.”_

“Your puns are as terrible as usual.” Flowey muttered.

But there had been timelines, many of them where Sans and Flowey ended up in confrontation. In the state he was now, Flowey didn’t stand a chance, for all his brave words and sadistic demeanor. And they both knew it.

“I’ll be back soon. Then, you idiot, you’ll be _real_ sorry.” It laughed that really fucked up way it always does as it sank under the snow and the earth, to god knows where.

Sans let out a low breath he hadn’t noticed he’d been holding, escaping from between his teeth. Alright, so this timeline wasn’t weird _enough_ with the mini version of Frisk and Toriel willing to open the door again in the future, but now the fucking flower is even more active than usual and avidly pursuing mini-Frisk for unknown reasons.

Eugh. His head already hurt and Sans wanted a nap.

Something crashed into his back, and if the arms that wrapped as far as they could reach around his stomach- not very far considering tiny arms- weren’t submerged in a familiar pink-blue striped sweater, he might have attacked it out of tension.

Looking down over his shoulder, the kid buried their face against his spinal cord through his jacket and Sans sighed.

A promise is a promise.

Sans looked up at Papyrus, whom was talking in that sentry-passionate-cool-guy tone he liked to use while on duty to the other two monsters, whom were huffing out their tale and what had happened. Papyrus’ head kept tilting toward Sans and Frisk ever so slightly, trying to keep an eye on them.

There’d be some explaining to do.

Sans let out a deep breath. He turned to the kid, whom looked up and sheepishly let go, looking down at the snow covered ground, disturbed with footsteps, their arms curling up behind them guiltily. Sans took the moment to survey them and could see the blood stain soaked into the left side of their sweater, about hip level.

“You still bleeding, kiddo?” Sans asked, mentally frowning, squatting down to their level.

Keeping their eyes on the snow, Frisk shook their head quickly. Twitching slightly, they muttered in half-audible whispers, “Skeleton magic. Healed it.”

Good thing pap knew some basic healing magic. “You mind… showing it to me?”

Sans asked it slowly and carefully. He knew Frisk. He knew a lot about Frisk. After so many timelines, he’d come to learn Frisk’s back story pre-fall into the underground was bad. With every timeline, it changed, but it was always something, and always something bad enough that the kid ended up going to a mountain where no one came back, like seeking to disappear.

That back story varied often, but the most common thing was normally abuse. Familial, for the most part, which always made Sans angry to think about; there was always something to do with abandonment, always, and in some timelines, it was neglectful, and in others, it was physical, and sometimes, although it was rare, Frisk’s perpetual nightmares that persisted through every timeline held scaring of a more… _intimate_ abuse that Sans tried really, really hard not to think about if he really didn’t have to.

When the kid broke into a cold sweat, it really didn’t assure him, either, but he really wasn’t willing to make that assumption just yet.

Despite the streak of anxiety that caused the kid to sweat when it was below freezing and snowing, they hesitantly nodded. Small fingers gently started to roll up the left side of their sweater.

It was kind of deep, right on the hip bone. It was already scarring with Papyrus’ healing magic having accelerated the process, but there wasn’t anything vital as far as Sans knew in that general area of human anatomy that would need to be worried about, and it was fully closed if marked with blood all over and around. It was better work then Sans could do, at least. He’d praise Pap later on a good job.

Sans’ skull bobbed once, “it definitely isn’t bad to begin with. You’ll be plenty fine, kiddo. We’ll get you something to eat and you’ll feel _plenty_ better, trust me.” He offered them a crooked smirk and they looked up at him at last. Their eyes twinkled and a tiny smile grew on their face.

They nodded as Sans stood, and nervously, they pulled the edge of their sleeve up their arm until their fingers were free of the fabric. Frisk looked hesitantly at his hand and then back up to him, and then at Papyrus, whom appeared to be finishing up, but then back at Sans’ hand.

He smirked. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Plant guy already ruined the ‘let pap see the human first’ thing.” He extended his hand to them, the other tucking into his pocket.

Frisk beamed and took his hand quickly, before muttering a tight “sorry.” And looking guilty again.

“I’d rather blame the dam- _dang_ flower than you.” Toriel would probably kill him if he taught such a little kid curses, heh… “Come’on, we’ll stop by the bun lady’s shop on our way home. Get you some cinnamon bunnys.” The kid loved those, no matter the timeline.

As expected, their sad little ‘I'm sorry’ face bloomed to an excited grin, and Sans snickered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SWEAR IM WORKING ON SLAVETALE AND PEACE AND ABOVETALE  
> im working on them right now but im gunna save up a few chapters before i start posting again to keep my stress levels down. this one however i have a lot of chapters for and ive never posted, so, i figured id share this one for now until im back up to speed


	6. W A R M

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relish the mayo while we ketchup a bit.

Sans made true on his word.

They waited until Papyrus finished writing down the statements of the other two monsters, as was his job to report anything of value that happened during his sentry watch, and then Sans started down the road without another word, hand in hand with the child. Papyrus followed, and at his brother’s silence on the matter, just went with it for now.

And, as said, Sans was true to his word, and the first place they went was the bun-woman’s little shop. Sans lifted Frisk with ease and sat them on the counter- they smiled brightly at the new high vantage point, and he turned with his grin to the woman.

The bun woman looked on with curiosity at the small human, and before Sans could even think, Frisk’s smile and their quiet couple-word prods started up a smooth conversation with the woman. Frisk didn’t need to say much, just a short “hello” and the woman offered a bright greeting. They asked if Frisk was from the capital and just assumed they were a monster right off the bat, and Frisk didn’t deny nor confirm, just smiling along. With a prompt about “your life?” the bun woman let spill a few soft worries about the underground issues and talked about their hopes. To Sans’ curiosity, when Frisk asked about the town, the bun woman leaned more toward talking about him and Papyrus- whom was standing by the door and leaning on the wall, working on his official report that would probably be delivered to Undyne. With a final question about what there was to do, the bun woman talked about Grillby’s, the Library with the funny sign, and the Inn. Apparently watching the skeleton bros was a town person’s pass time, too, as the bun woman also recommended.

Frisk smiled and smiled and nodded along, and shifted their stance and motioned toward some of the bun woman’s personal recipe cinnamon rolls when prompted if they were looking to buy anything.

Frisk even ended up paying on their own- which totally surprised Sans, actually, he’d been fine with buying the kid the food and had expected to. But apparently they had scraped up some cash from un-decorating Grftrot and their confrontation with the Icecap. Frisk was a prepared and independent little tyke, it seemed, even at a younger age. The fact Frisk understood the Monster Gold system and to get the gold from the monster interactions felt like another sign that Frisk had _some_ form of timeline memory.

Frisk also bought a ‘Tough bandana’ out of curiosity, grinning at it and turning to Sans with an excited expression as they showed it off. Both he and the shopkeeper were amused, and Frisk tied it around their neck proudly.

The little scrap wasn’t much in the way of actually looking _tough_ , but, well at least it might help keep them warm.

Warmth was a thing Humans needed, he suddenly remembered, and then looked down at the kid again and winced.

When had they started shaking, and how long? Their sweater was _soaked_ , too, from melted snow. He felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, kind of glad they had just cut the puzzles out and headed into town. The warmth of the shop had probably warmed them up, but their face was still pretty red from cold, especially around their nose, eyes, and ears. He wondered if human eyes could freeze?

He aughta get them home right quick.

“Alright, bucko.” He lifted them off the counter with a swoop and they grinned at him from the floor again as the bunny woman finished wrapping up the 5 cinnamon bunnies Frisk had bought, tucking them into a bag that Sans picked up. Sans wondered if Frisk had gotten more G in the ruins or somewhere else before the incident; a Gyftrot and icecap didn’t normally carry that much G. “Let’s get you home before you turn into a Friskcicle. Bro, you ready to head home?”

The taller skeleton looked up. He still looked curious and hesitant when he glanced to Frisk, but nodded. “OF COURSE, BROTHER, I AM ALWAYS READY FOR ANYTHING! GOOD BYE, MS. SHOP OWNER!” he waved energetically to the woman as he opened the door for the group to head out. Frisk giggled, and copied him, waving with equivalent energy, maybe just a little less as the kid appeared slightly worn from the activity, and everyone was amused by the two of them, even the two at one another.

It didn’t take long to reach their house- Sans supplied a short cut to cross the whole town, even though it wasn’t _that_ great a distance- he just didn’t want to walk, really, and he also happened to have a child who was susceptible to becoming hypothermic with him, which he supplied as an excuse when Papyrus groaned in exasperation at his laziness.

Papyrus, the only one who ever bothered locking the door, unlocked it. The place was spick and span and crazy neat from Papyrus’ tedious cleaning session this morning, with the exception of the pile of sticky notes stuck to a sock in the corner.

“Alright, kid, go on over to the couch eat this stuff to your heart’s content.” Sans handed them their bag.

Frisk nodded and had to climb a bit to get up there, much to Sans’ amusement. At the notice of their wet clothing and another shiver, he moved off to a mostly untouched closet and retrieved a spare blanket that was only ever used when Papyrus randomly decided he wanted to make a blanket fort. He set the folded article on the couch beside them, and Frisk offered him a wide smile in thanks, and within a few minutes had bundled themselves into a rather tight looking Frisk Burrito. Cute. He’d get them something dry to wear until their clothes were dry in just a minute.

“SO… SANS?” Papyrus called, setting his little notebook on a side table; on top of what appeared to be a joke book.  He sat on the other end of the couch, looking to Frisk- whom was unfolding the paper that the shopkeeper had wrapped the snack in with two little hands poking out of the same place their head did from the burrito of blanket.

Alright. Explanation time, then.

“Well, bro. isn’t it obvious?” Sans waved a bony hand to the kid, whom was thoroughly engrossed and distracted by their treat, and then to Papyrus. “You caught your first human.”

“WHAT?” Papyrus looked surprised. “I MEAN-” he recovered, “YES, OF COURSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS HAS CAUGHT A HUMAN! MY HUMAN CATCHING SKILLS ARE SO AMAZING I CAN CATCH ONE WITHOUT EVEN REALIZING IT, IT SEEMS!” Papyrus looked back to Frisk, though. “BUT… SANS, THIS CANNOT POSSIBLY BE A HUMAN! ARE NOT HUMANS SUPPOSED TO BE DANGEROUS? I IMAGINE THEM BIGGER… AND LESS… _CUTE_. AND NOT RUNNING AWAY IN FEAR FROM FLOWERS.”

Well.

“It’s a baby human, Pap.” Sans chuckled. “I'm sure they’ll get bigger. You know, like you did. You were real small as a babybones, ya know. Kids get bigger.”

Well, not Frisk. In the timelines Frisk gets to adult hood, they only grow to just Papyrus’ mid chest. Admittedly it’s taller than Sans, but still pretty small, Frisk was even smaller than most humans he’d seen in the brief spans they’d made it above ground.

“ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN? THIS ISNT WHAT I IMAGINED THE DANGEROUS THINGS WITH POWERFUL SOULS WOULD LOOK LIKE, SANS.” Papyrus looked real skeptical.

Sans shrugged, “Talk to the kid, why don’t ya? Ah- they don’t talk _that_ much, just a heads up.”

Sans shuffled into the kitchen to abandon his brother to the child, glancing over his shoulder.

Papyrus looked over the human uncertainly. “AH- SANS CALLED YOU FRISK, RIGHT?”

Frisk jumped, looking up at their name, half a bunny treat sticking out of their face. They looked at him, waiting, for orders or for a question, having not been paying attention and missing what he said.

Papyrus tipped his skull to the side. Frisk glanced down, blushing in embarrassment, not sure what they missed, and Sans laughed from the kitchen. Frisk hurriedly finished their bun, sinking into their burrito and glancing at Papyrus again.

“YOU ARE HUMAN, YES?” Papyrus question now that he was certain they were listening.

Frisk nodded, blinking up at him.

“YOU ARE A HUMAN CHILD, THEN?” Frisk nodded. “ARE YOU _SURE_?” Frisk blinked, surprised. It was hard to get what species you were mixed up. They nodded again, slowly.

Papyrus’ expression became awe. “MY MIND HAS BEEN EXPANDED!” he exclaimed. To Frisk, who giggled a little at it, he continued, “HELLO, HUMAN CHILD, FRISK, I AM THE GREAT AND AMAZING PAPYRUS! I AM VERY EXCITED TO MEET YOU!”

Frisk poked further out of their cocoon, letting out a hum of agreement. “You’re nice.” They murmured quietly. It was odd, how quiet they were, especially in comparison to Papyrus.

“WHAT A HEARTFELT COMPLIMENT!” Papyrus gasped, a hand over a non-existent heart. “AND THE FIRST WORDS YOU HAVE SAID TO ME, AT THAT! SMALL HUMAN, YOU, TOO, ARE VERY NICE, MAYBE ALMOST AS NICE AS I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!”

Frisk’s giggles proved all the response Papyrus needed. Sans listened with a light smile as a mostly-one-sided (not that Papyrus minded, not at all) conversation continued, the larger skeleton going on about what he had expected his first human to look like, and about how capturing a human was going to make him popular, about how he was going to have so many friends.

“I’ll be your friend?” it was tiny and nervous, and the anxiety under it and its nearly too-quiet-to-hear sound caught his attention curiously from the kitchen. “If that’s okay.” They added just as quick, and Sans looked over his shoulder too keep an eye on them.

It was about that time in the conversation Frisk- the good kid, not a murdering one- would always offer to be his friend. That was normal. And maybe sometimes it sounded uncertain, but normally it was friendly. It wasn’t normally so small and weak a tone which they offered this, no matter how uncertain the kid was, it was most often an assertive ‘let’s be friends’.

They had burrowed back into their encasement of blankets, and their gaze was turned pointedly to the floor. Silence ensued, and with every passing second of it, they sank further and further into their nest of warm blankets and showed more regret and anxiety.

“YOU WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH THE GREAT PAPYRUS?” the skeleton asked, and to Sans’ surprise, it was just about as gentle as Papyrus’ loud voice got, and his brother was watching the child with a calculative look he normally only wore when he was reading Sans or designing a puzzle.

Sans was never fond of it, but turned off of him and onto someone else, it made the shorter of the brothers get a strange sense of pride and affection. Which honestly was kind of weird; especially since Sans wasn’t even entirely sure what that look meant beyond the fact that Papyrus was watching very, very closely. Sans wondered if it was because Papyrus had caught the same strangeness to the child’s tone that he did. While Sans was left in the dark on what was up with the tone, he wondered if Papyrus had some inkling to it?

Frisk, turning red from both growing embarrassment, and holding their breath the whole time, nodded once slowly.

Papyrus’ stare looked piercing from where Sans stood. Sans would have started sweating and trying not to stutter at this point under its intensity. He was certain the kid could feel it.

After so long, when the kid looked like they were going to pass out from holding their breath and Sans certainly would have cracked under the intensity, Sans was contemplating stepping in to break their tense silence when Papyrus gave a smooth nod.

“I WOULD BE RIGHTFULLY HONORED TO HAVE MY FIRST HUMAN CAPTURE BE MY FRIEND, ESPECIALLY SINCE MY HUMAN IS SO NICE. THE GREAT PAPYRUS HUMBLY ACCEPTS YOUR OFFER OF FRIENDSHIP!”

Humble wasn’t quite the word Sans would use, the skeleton mused with an internal laugh. Frisk looked up at him, stunned, and Sans emerged, the mugs of warmed Spider Cider at the ready.

“Yeah, aint that nice and cozy? Let’s all be pals, kiddo. I’ll teach you how to make puns, and Pap’ll laugh cause they’re so funny. Right, Bro?” Sans grinned with half lidded eyes at his brother as he offered the tall Skeleton one mug.

He looked quite furious.

“VERY WELL, I ACCEPT THIS CHALLENGE! I WILL LAUGH AT THE SMALL HUMANS PUNS, SANS, BUT IN EXCHANGE, I FORBID YOU TO TEACH THE HUMAN TO DRINK KETCHUP! I KNOW YOU WILL TRY! THAT IS NOT HEALTHY!”

“Ketchup’s just a fruit, pap. It’s like- tomatoes.”

“TOMATOES ARE VEGITABLES, SANS!”

“Nope.” Sans chuckled, and handed Frisk their own mug, grin in full effect when they were covering their mouth and restraining giggles. “Besides, Frisk doesn’t look like a hard drinker, too small. We aughta start’em off with Mayonnaise. S’ basically milk.”

“NOW YOU ARE PULLING MY LEG, SANS, BECAUSE MILK IS NOTHING LIKE MAYONNAISE! ONE IS FILTHY AND DISGUSTING AND GREASY! THE OTHER IS FULL OF STRONG BONES! HOW WRONG YOU ARE!”

“Gee, pap, I guess when you're right, your right.” Sans laughed. “No mayonnaise then, huh, Frisko? Hope you _relish_ the taste of pickles then, kid.”

“SANS, THERE WILL BE NO CONDIMENT CONSUMPTION IN MASS QUANTITY BY THE SMALL HUMAN!”

Sans chuckled noncommittally and Frisk’s laugh was warm around their sip of the cider.

 


	7. B E D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a place to rest your head

The rest of Frisk’s first day with the skeleton brothers went remarkably well.

Frisk was a very good sport and an easy to get along with type.

They didn’t do much, and that was probably why they got along so easily with Sans, particularly. Kid wasn’t _lazy_ , certainly not like Sans. While he sat on the couch and watched the TV mostly because he couldn’t be bothered to do anything, Frisk sat beside him quietly and watched more out of mimicry. They sat and watched it in compatible silence, ignoring the sounds of Papyrus banging around pots and pans in the kitchen making dinner. Frisk had a naturally calm, vague slowness to them and they didn’t really move around a lot. They’d swap from watching the TV and a terrible Mettaton Sitcom, to looking around the room thoughtfully, and back again. Sans wondered a couple times what the kid was thinking about at one point, but deemed it irrelevant. He figured any kid he’d ever seen Frisk’s age never sat still, so Frisk looking around was probably just their weird slow, low-activity equivalent.

When dinner was done, Frisk slid off the couch when Papyrus called to them to come into the kitchen; still wrapped up in their cloaking blanket as they moved to stand at the doorway. Sans stayed lazily on the couch and Frisk smiled as they watched Papyrus come out and the two bickered back and forth. Eventually Papyrus relented with a deep sigh and brought Sans his plate, and then went back into the kitchen, Frisk following. Frisk laughed and humored his loud excitement at them to try his ‘culinary masterpiece’. Whether they liked the taste or not (Sans was 100% certain they couldn’t like the flavor, it was pretty terrible), they certainly made it look like they did. Smiling wide and nodding approval and prompting Papyrus to chatter on happily.

Papyrus and Frisk made their plates and the taller skeleton guided the kid back to the couch. Sans cracked a joke that had Papyrus complaining at high volume as Frisk climbed up the couch onto the cushion seat, careful not to spill pasta sauce (of a rather questionable, gross texture) on anything. Papyrus joined them on the couch when he finished a loud lecture about Sans’ puns, and started actively narrating the TV program with excited “oh, this is my favorite part”s and “isn’t Mettaton amazing?”s. Frisk nodded along in their version of ‘conversationally’ and Papyrus elaborated in every detail he could find.

Frisk was a nice kid, Sans lamented. In the good timelines, when they were a couple years older, they were just like this, too. Something about it felt a little unaligned with the normal Frisk, but Sans couldn’t quite tap it.

It was an hour later than normal past Pap’s usual bed time when the two skeleton brothers were starting to head up stairs for Papyrus’ bedtime story.

Sans was cracking a final joke as he and Papyrus were heading for the stairs, when in the corner of his eye sockets, he noticed the kid was finally doing something. Or, something more active than just sitting with them and nodding along.

He watched them fold up the blanket neatly as he finished his joke, watching curiously. The kid still looked kind of cold. And wouldn’t they need the blanket when they went to bed?

Papyrus looked over, too, where he was standing at the base of the stairs, and they both watched Frisk walk towards the door.

They got about half way there when Sans finally called, “Where you off too, kiddo?”

Frisk looked up at them, surprised. Their eyes darted between them, then upstairs to Papyrus’ bedroom door and then Sans’s door. They motioned with their hand to said doors and then to the both of them. “g’na sleep?” They asked.

Sans nodded and Papyrus exclaimed, “INDEED! SLEEP IS VERY IMPORTANT, SMALL HUMAN, EVEN IF SANS GETS TOO MUCH OF IT. I WILL BE GOING TO BED, SANS PROBABLY SOMETIME SOON.” Sans nodded again, confirmation.

Frisk nodded, assured, and turned back to head for the door. “Uh- Kid, you still didn’t really tell us where you’re going.”

Frisk stopped again and turned around, confused.  “Inn.”

Sans almost, _almost_ snorted. “You’re staying here, you goof.”

Frisk returned to surprised. “Your house.” They motioned around them at said house. “Imposing. Nuisance.” Although the kid’s sentences were choppy, they had a pretty neat vocabulary for a kid their age.

“NONSENSE! COME, FRISK, YOU ARE OUR GUEST AND WE ARE FRIENDS, ARE WE NOT!” it was more like a declaration then a question, though he did wait for them to respond as he strode over. They nodded, and so he continued and whisked the kid off their feet, “AND OF COURSE THE GREAT PAPYRUS DOES NOT MAKE HIS FRIENDS GO TO AN INN. BESIDES, YOU DON’T HAVE THE 80 G FOR THE WHOLE NIGHT ANYWAY, SMALL HUMAN.”

“Should definitely stay here. It’s cheaper staying home- INNexpensive, you might say.” Sans chuckled, pulling out a pillow from the same closet Frisk’s blanket came from.

They were still surprised, which made the smiling response to his pun funnier as Papyrus brought them back to the couch, setting them on it with ease.

“sure s’okay?” they asked quietly, fidgeting. Something about the lighter mood shifted. Sans knew it wasn’t just him who felt it as he noticed Papyrus shift his weight abruptly. Frisk’s fingers rubbed each other through their sleeves, looking up between the brothers a couple times tensely. “s’catch, right?”

A catch? The two skeletons exchanged a glance.

Sans took the initiative, leaning on the wall beside the closet door. “You’re right, kid, there is _one_ catch.” Papyrus looked at him, the brow bone of his forehead arching at one side.

Frisk tensed and looked at him. He pointedly ignored the expression of fear.

“Here. _Catch._ ”

And the pillow bowled the kid over entirely, almost knocking the wind out of them as they went all the way back on the couch. Frisk erupted with sudden laughter, much louder than their usual little giggles, clutching the pillow and pressing their laughter into it.

Sans beamed with pure pride in himself and Papyrus even chuckled, only making him grow brighter.


	8. M I M I C

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> copy catting

Frisk always looked a little surprised each night that they were being welcomed for yet another stay in their home, but by the third night when the kid attempted to leave and strike out on their own, Papyrus started making a point of taking out the pillow and blanket and fixing Frisk’s makeshift bed up before the kid even had the chance to try and leave.

Papyrus was very patient, but frankly, he was dead set on making sure the kid understood that they were welcome here.

It effectively made the kid stop trying to walk out the door, though it did insight a funny scene of the child squeaking and running over to try to help him, so he didn’t have to do them any more work then absolutely necessary, which only proceeded Papyrus to work at it even more valiantly to prevent his guest and best-human-friend from having to do work.

Papyrus put in a valiant effort and while he did give Frisk the pillow to set down, refused to let them do more, and the child would stand there silently asking for more chances to help, in which none would come seeing how determined papyrus was, and blushed in gratitude each night when Papyrus finished, mumbling their sorry to make him do it for them, and of course would prompt an (almost nightly) declaration that he was proud to assist the human and would not let them do any work while staying.

Pap was so cool, Sans sighed wistfully.

As cool as he was, though, apparently Papyrus hadn’t known humans need much more sleep to function then he did ( _everyone_ need more sleep to function then Papyrus), and Frisk didn’t mention to Sans that the first few mornings, Papyrus roused them in the earliest hours excitedly for breakfast.

Papyrus hadn’t tried to wake Sans at the ungodly hour of 3 in the morning in years considering there was literally no way the lazy bones was going to wake at such an hour, so it took Sans the first couple of days to notice the kid was getting exhausted and find out about the early hour wakeup call.

He’d laughed for quite a while before explaining to Papyrus the 8-hour-sleep deal humans needed and Papyrus had spent the next 30 minutes in a lengthy apology to Frisk including how humans were so strange and probably lazy like his brother if they needed _that_ much sleep but that Frisk proved themselves valiantly through the last 5 days and he approved of them with a proper title: not-lazy. Papyrus even gave them a thumbs up and a skele-wink and Frisk had practically melted in awe like this new title was a trophy.

Morning and night time dilemmas solved and aside, the middle of the day had posed the most difficult question: what the hell is Frisk to do all day, anyway?

Sans found himself wishing he’d payed the kid’s typical day to day life a little more attention. He’d seen the kid playing snowball fights, but that was with the monster friends they developed like Monster Kid. This Frisk didn’t have those, at least, not yet; who knew, maybe they’d make those friends again at some point. Then again, Frisk was significantly younger than Monster Kid at this point, and the other kid monster friends. Would they be as good of friends?

And actually, Sans wasn’t quite sure if Frisk was old enough to be left unsupervised. What age are humans capable of walking around a town alone without getting themselves lost/hurt/god-knows-what-with-a-kid-like-Frisk? Seriously, Frisk was a magnet for danger and bad ideas.

The question of if the kid could and should be left alone only got more problematic when Sans recalled a dastardly little plant was more actively after the kid in this timeline. He hadn’t seen Flowey since the first time, but there was no doubt the flower was still around and about. It wasn’t like that flower to be scared off.

Sans solved this dilemma on the first day easily. It was his day off from duty as a sentry and he hung around the house; watching tv, reading his quantum physics book-hidden inside a joke book- which was inside a quantum physics book- which was inside a joke book- and taking short naps in between. He didn’t have to worry yet about the leaving-them-alone thing, since he didn’t have to leave. He went about his usual stay-at-home day patterns, just made sure to figure out what the kid was up to maybe every 45 minutes or so.

Frisk imitated him the whole time, which was kind of cute, actually.

They climbed onto the couch and watched TV with him. They followed him into the kitchen when he went to grab a bottle of ketchup- even trying some when Sans offered it to them with a smirk; their eyes burned and they tried to smile through it, and Sans cracked up, shooting back a mouthful as he got the kid a can of soda from the fridge to cover the taste. They followed him back to the couch and tried to read over his shoulder- but the kid seemed to have trouble with just reading, without trying to read about quantum physics, so Sans used a little magic and dragged down one of pap’s Fluffy Bunny book series without leaving the couch- they sat and read alongside him, smiling. Every time Sans fell asleep for a nap, he woke up again to find the kids’ blanket put over him and they were back to looking around, peeking out the windows and shifting curiously through the car magazines in the big drawer on the entertainment stand.

He had to hand it to them, the kid was pretty good at finding ways to entertain themselves, because he certainly wouldn’t have known how to entertain the child.

When Papyrus came home- waking Sans from yet another nap which prompted the taller skeleton to descend into complaints about his laziness- the tall skeleton recaptured Frisk’s attention with ease. They were putting away the magazines with a neat touch in the same alphabetical order Papyrus had left them in, and then they were playing mimicry with him instead.

Sans was mildly amused as he watched.

They followed on their toes and watched Papyrus sweep through his usual routine. Re-locking the door, sprinkle feeding the otherwise mostly neglected pet rock, pausing at the sock in the corner of the room to tsk in disappointment and repeat most of his laziness spiel, cleaned up everything _but_ the sock that was out of place, and then went into the kitchen to start making spaghetti.

Frisk followed a few steps behind; fingering the door locks curiously, inspecting the container of sprinkles and shaking out just a couple more sprinkles themselves, stood beside Papyrus and tipped their head curiously as they read the succession of sticky notes (at first grinning at the funny notes, then glancing up at Papyrus and copying his unimpressed expression, which was hilarious), straightening little things as they followed behind the cleaning Papyrus, and then followed him into the kitchen.

The kid was fun to watch, Sans decided.


	9. B O N E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> age appropriate humor

Well, his lazy day off at home watching the kid play copycat had been great, barely getting up from the couch the whole time. Nice; Kid was real easy to deal with, as compared to most other brats their age. Perhaps, though, it was time to stand for the first time in a couple hours, now that the cool bro was home.

He followed and joined Papyrus and Frisk in the kitchen, smirking as he watched Frisk standing at what he thought they assumed to be a respectful distance away against the wall, watching with an almost ridiculous precision and a stab of curiosity as they watched Papyrus shuffling about, pulling things out of the cup boards, like every night.

Sans decidedly joined the kid, and when Papyrus spotted his brother, he brightened, “SANS, YOU COME TO WATCH YOUR AMAZING BROTHER PREPARE AN ASOUNDING DINNER OF TOP MAGNITUDE?”

“You got it, bro.” Sans offered a thumbs up.

Papyrus brightened a lot more than Sans expected. Hmm.

“HOW EXCITING! OF COURSE YOU WOULD WANT TO WATCH AND LEARN, AS I AM SURELY A TALENTED COOK, AFTER ALL, BUT THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS TOUCHED NO LESS THAT HIS BROTHER WILL JOIN HIM!”

Sans grinned, looking to the kid, “Aint my bro cool?”

Frisk nodded in whole hearted agreement.

“OF COURSE I AM COOL, I AM THE COOLEST DUDE! IT SAYS SO ON MY SPECIAL CLOTHES!” Papyrus laughed carelessly, retrieving his apron. He hesitated. “I HAVE AN AMAZING IDEA, THOUGH! INSTEAD OF WATCHING THE GREAT PAPYRUS COOK LIKE THE AMAZING SPAGETTITORE WE KNOW I AM, WE SHALL MAKE AN EXCITING FAMILY MEAL!”

He looked hopeful and pulled out the apron, turning to Sans.

They hadn’t cooked together in quite a few timelines, most usually stopping when Papyrus started cooking lessons with Undyne (which was prior to the date the restarts always restarted from). The last time had been on Alphys’ birthday, and with Undyne and Frisk. The cake they had tried to make… well… it was certainly _memorable_ though not so much _edible_. Luckily Mettaton had shown up with his own cake- and thankfully hadn’t made a recipe that required the human substitute in respect to the human child. Actually, Frisk had been about 16, then, hadn’t they? Human teenager, then.

Sans’ smile turned soft. “Heck yeah, bro. Sounds like a good time.” He joined his brother at his side and pulled out his own of the many aprons (he tended to buy one every time he saw one with a funny pun on it; he loved these dumb things.)

The first one he grabbed said “A steak pun is a rare medium well done” as opposed to the one the grinning Papyrus held, “This is my Humerus Apron” with a bone printed on. The word ‘cool’ was neatly stitched between ‘my’ and ‘Humerus’. There was one in here that Undyne always wore when she was over to teach pap to cook, “GRILL sergeant, sir!” in big capital letters.

Papyrus looked quite excited as he finished tying his own on, and Sans started on his. Then his head turned to human, “WELL, MY FRIEND? ARE YOU UP TO THE CHALLENGE OF ASSITING IN A GREAT BIG FAMILY MEAL?”

Frisk- formerly watching with a warm expression at their brotherly moment- was just as startled as when they’d been stopped from leaving to the Inn the first night.

Sans didn’t give pause to their reaction, instead lighting up with a realization and a huge grin. “Oh- I have the best thing for Frisk- bro, do we have any sharpies?”

Papyrus- as the cleaner of house whom knew where everything and anything was- retrieved one almost immediately, practically out of thin air, as Sans pushed around folded aprons in the cabinet. Papyrus made a distasteful noise as sans messed up the neat stacks. They had a lot of aprons, Sans noticed absently, he should _probably_ stop buying these things.

He came back out, holding one with a wicked grin, and threw it over the table as he grabbed and pulled the marker to him with a flick of his wrist and a tad bit of blue magic. This was originally the apron Papyrus wore (adamantly refusing to wear an apron with puns until Sans found an apron with a bone joke, apparently the only kind Papyrus was moderately fine with).

“Good chefs take big risks!”

He promptly sharpied a black F in front of the red-stitched word risks.

“SANS, MY FAVORITE BROTHER, YOU ARE INDEED A GENIUS!” Papyrus gasped, grabbing it almost before Sans could take the marker tip from the cloth, and bounding to the child, who was still standing there engulfed in their confusion and surprise. He picked them up like they were nothing (they probably _were_ nothing, the kid was real small after all) and stood them on one of the chairs at the table.

Papyrus put it around their head and tied it loosely around their back. Since it was once the tall Papyrus’, it was so big on them it was absolutely hilarious. Papyrus, anticipating this it seemed, had retrieved a pair of scissors, and before Frisk could follow what was going on or recover from their surprise, he had gone and cut away the bottom until it was a proper length, cut the thread that went around the neck and retied it at a much better size for them, and cut the length of the waist strings that were so long they reached their feet.

“Good, work, bro.” Sans admired the quick work, honestly impressed. His brother was pretty good at altering clothes after doing it to his own so much.

“I LOVE IT! IF THE GREAT STAR METTATON WERE HERE, HE WOULD SURELY PRAISE MY STYLE AND FEATURE MY SKILLS ON HIS FASHION CHANNEL! ALSO, THE HUMAN LOOKS ADORABLE.”

“Couldn’t agree more, bro. They still look pretty confused, _tibia_ honest.”

Frisk looked down on the suddenly better-fitting apron with wide eyes. Surely, now, it definitely wouldn’t fit either of them. Wasn’t it ruined for them, now? That’s what Sans thought they were thinking, he could read it clear in their expression. Which was weird, ‘cause normally the kid had a high class poker face, but perhaps Frisk hadn’t gotten old enough to develop it just yet.

“Don’t sweat it, buddo. It’s definitely doin’ more good like this than it was before.” Sans gave them a goofy grin.

He’d hit the nail on the head, it seemed, and they looked down at him from their position still stood on the chair. “Sure?” they questioned one last time, worried.

“M’sure.” He nodded back.

They smiled. “Looks cool.” They agreed at last, tracing the little F with fingers poking out of their massive sweater sleeve when they looked back down at it.

“YOU BET IT DOES!” Papyrus cheered. “NOW, MY HUMAN ASSITANT, MY BROTHER ASSISTANT, LETS MAKE SOME AMAZING DINNER!”

“What’s on the menu, bro?”

“SPAGETTI!”

“You got it.” Sans chuckled, picking the kid up just as easy- he was right, the human was ridiculously light, even for a bag of flesh- and swinging them to the ground. They giggled at the disorientation as Sans kicked the chair back under the table. Using Undyne’s apron as inspiration, Sans continued to Papyrus in a louder, army-movie like tone, “Where do you want us, _Grill_ Sergeant?” Frisk giggled like it was the funniest thing they’d heard.

Papyrus huffed. “AT YOUR STATION, CADET.” He played along, and Frisk bounced once excitedly with another giggle and struck a funny salute when Papyrus looked over his shoulder at them, which made him laugh too. “YOU AND THE SMALL HUMAN SHALL MASH THE VEGITABLES- ER- ENEMYS TO RIBBONS!” he announced proudly, “BE STRONG IN BATTLE, MEN- AH- MAN AND TINY CHILD!”

To the laughter of both skeletons, Frisk saluted again and produced a “yes, sir.” They paused, a twinkle in their eye.

Then they hesitated, “s’mean we’re the royal guard guys?” their bright tone of voice mingled with hope.

Papyrus- who’d been retrieving a pot, paused. He looked at the kid in positive delight. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS, CAPTAIN OF THE KITCHENS’ ROYAL GUARD! YOU BETTER BELIVE IT!” He loved the prospect and Frisk glowed with delight, “WE WILL BE THE GREATS GUARDS, WITH THE GREAT AND AMAZING PAPYRUS AS THE LEADER AND WITH THE GREATEST TWO SAUCE MAKERS IN THE UNDERGROUND!”

Frisk cheered and Sans supplied a lazy sluggish fist pump of muted excitement. “that’s real awesome sounding, bro.”

“INDEED!”

Sans chuckled and nudged Frisk lightly. “Go ahead and grab some stuff outta the fridge. Tomatoes and onions and what not. Think you could _pasta_ -bly handle all that, royal guardsmen?” he laughed.

Before he could turn to get the utensils for their task of sauce making, or before Papyrus could even complain about such a bad pun, Frisk waved their hand in the air, “spagetta- ‘bout it, s’easy.”

Papyrus dropped the pot with a noise of distress and Sans rested his elbow on the table, skull in his hand, looking at the kid in unsheathed wonder. “Kid, you’re gunna go far in life.” He grinned, “I can feel it in my bones.”

“m’teachers were puntastic, afterall.” Frisk smiled in response. Sans’ grin stretched, and the kid was right. No one made more nonstop puns then he or Toriel did.

“KNOCK IT OFF, NO PUNS IN THE KITCHEN!”

“No need to get so _pastaed_ off at us, Pap.” Sans stood up, grinning as the kid laughed and made for the fridge, and he went to the counter drawers. “Were just having a pun time,”

“SANS I SWEAR.” The taller skeleton’s face was pressed into the cup board and he was groaning, “YOU ARE POSIONING THE YOUTH.”

“Don’t get so upsetti, bro, we’re just ribbin’ with ya.” Sans laughed, sliding a drawer open and observing a variety of chopping instruments. “Uh.” Some of these looked really weird. What do you even use most of these knives for? Sans was not much of a cook.

Papyrus reached in and pulled out a simple looking knife and set it on the counter, out from the depths of weird looking Bread, Butcher and Boning knives without even looking up from his task of filling a pot with water. Sans only knew those names because it said them on the blades.

He reached into it no less and picked up the so-labeled Boning Knife.

Papyrus looked over and apparently recognized it immediately- “NO.”

“But-”

“Sans.”

“But pap, come on-”

“SANS, IF YOU MAKE A… _boning_ JOKE IN FRONT OF A CHILD, I WILL BE VERY DISAPPOINTED.”

His voice dropped impeccably low on the word like it was taboo, and Papyrus looked appalled even still that he’d said it at all, shooting a glance to Frisk to make sure the child hadn’t hear him say boning. Much to pap’s relief, the kid was half way in the fridge, thoroughly occupying themselves in digging past containers of spaghetti to reach the spaghetti ingredients.

“Aw, man, bro, the kid won’t understand a bone zone level joke.” Sans whined, but dropped it just as he dropped the funny knife back into the drawer.

“DON’T SAY _BONE ZONE_ IN FRONT OF THE HUMAN!” Papyrus was thoroughly scandalized.

Sans cackled when Frisk looked out of the fridge to Papyrus, whom despite being a skeleton with no blood proved he was very capable of blushing a dark orange. Frisk’s wide eyes were entirely innocent, “Bone Zone?”

Both brothers broke into a sweat; Sans even turned a little blue. “hah, oh, man, is it hot in here or what? Hey, pap, uh- so, spaghetti, am I right?”

“Where s’Bone Zone?” Frisk squeaked in confusion, getting left out of a loop that looked a little important from their perspective.

“Haha- um, _spaghetti_ , right, bro?”

“I BLAME YOU FOR THIS, SANS.” Papyrus was covering his face.

“Do y’guys come from s’Bone Zone?” Frisk blinked in wonder, probably imaging some city of bones where Skeletons lived.

“Well, that’s not entirely…” Sans said to himself thoughtfully, reproduction and all that, and all the jokes that could connect Bone Zone to the word ‘come’ and all making him trail away.

“SANS.” Papyrus gave him a serious _what the hell_ face.

That expression was ridiculously comical on Papyrus of all people and Sans broke into wild laughter and snorts and he couldn’t bother feeling embarrassed at that point.

“THIS IS NO TIME TO BE LAUGHING, BROTHER, THIS SITUATION MUST BE RECTIFIED.”

Sans just cracked up, “Bro this is funny as heck.” He shook his head, laughing harder.

Frisk was still mentally designing a land called the Bone Zone.

“I wanna go there.” Frisk decided, wondering where skeletons would live.

“NO, hell no.” Sans cut off his laughter, slightly breathless, at the same time as Papyrus started sputtering and covered his face, burying it in both his hands. “There will be no boning and no bone zones, the Bone Zone is C L O S E D.” He took the moment to use _the_ most serious expression, very firm on the matter. “You are never going to the Bone Zone, never, no, not with no one.”

Frisk looked disappointed and Sans leaned on the wall for support, seriousness evaporating. he started laughing so hard, if he had a stomach it probably would have split.

“WHY ARE YOU EVEN LEGALLY ALOWED NEAR CHILDREN, SANS?”

“Because I'm a great role model.” Sans wheezed with a ludicrous amount of sarcasm between laughs.

“You guy’s go to s’Bone Zone?” Frisk asked curiously.

“well-”

“SANS SHUT UP.”

“Pap, wait-”

“NO, SANS, YOU WILL NOT CORRUPT THIS SMALL CHILD WITH YOUR CRUDE, VULGAR COMICAL ANSWERS TO INNOCENT QUESTIONS.”

“You’re just upset cause ya’ never been to the bone zone.”

“ _S A N S_ ”

By such point the shorter skeleton had slid all the way down the wall, gasping for air with nonexistent lungs.

“SANS HOW DARE YOU.”

“Pap’s never been ta s’Bone Zone?” Frisk questioned, brow furrowing. They assumed all skeletons came from this enchanted bone world.

“FRISK YOU ARE TOO YOUNG TO SAY THAT STOP IT!”

“Nah, Kid, pap’s too cool for the Bone Zone.”

“Pap should go to s’Bone Zone.” Frisk frowned. “Sounds fun.”

Sans was crying and had no idea whether to respond with “oh, you have no idea.” And a more innocent “you mean ‘sounds _pun_ ’,” and couldn’t say either between his shaking laughs.

“Pap, if Sans’ won’t take me, can we go to s’Bone Zone together instead?” They looked up and Papyrus, oh poor, poor Papyrus was the deepest shade of orange Sans had ever seen on his brother.

Sans was still mostly on the floor partly leaned on the wall, asphyxiating on his own laughs, and Papyrus pulled his apron to cover his own face with a loud sound of embarrassment to have just been asked to take child to the bone zone.

Papyrus had a tolerance for jokes but _wow_ had this gotten out of hand. Face burning the skeleton stripped off the apron and all but thrashed it aside in a knot onto the counter, storming out of the room with a thunderous aura of humiliation. “I WILL ORDER GREASY TRASH FROM GRILLBYS! I AM THE GREAT PAPYRUS, BUT EVEN I CANNOT WORK IN THESE RIDICULOUS CONDITIONS, NYO HO HO HO! SANS I WILL NEVER FORGIVE YOU FOR TEACHING THE HUMAN SUCH DIRTY WORDS!”

Sans just curled up and kept wheezing on the floor. Frisk continued to hold the tomatoes they had retrieved and looked around in confusion.

“s’at mean pap ‘ont take us to s’Bone Zone?”

“K-Kid, kid, you- you’re a- a- comedy _genius_.”


	10. W O R K

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> getting ready for work with the skeleton brothers, starring: Frisk

As… fun as the first day with practical custody of the human child had been, there was still the question of what to _do_ with the kid.

Sans had a lot of part time jobs and sentry posts.

Papyrus worked close with Undyne, and now was definitely not the time to let the fish soldier meet the small human.

Part of Sans knew that a human had never fallen down as young as Frisk, let alone this timeline’s younger Frisk, and Sans doubted there was anyone in the underground who knew enough about human children of Frisk’s age to be able to tell him if Frisk was old enough to be left to handle themselves.

Skeletons tended to be old enough after only a couple years; baby bones and older skeletons were known to be quick to intelegance. So forth Sans and his quantum physics and the old Royal Scientist before Alphys- Sans didn’t want to think about him and aborted the train of thought, but the point still stood that skeletons typically could be left alone at 3 or 4 years of age—Even Pap was capable of taking care of himself and taking care of his particularly… sad and energy-less brother by the time he was 8, and hed been slower to grow and develop. But, by contrary, there were many monster species that’s infancy-like years stretched fourth 5 years, let alone what age they could be trusted at home alone. Monsters aged differently than each other, let alone differently from humans.

Even if Frisk was old enough to be alone, was it a good idea? I mean, Frisk was independent and durable and pretty smart, yeah, but there had been many versions of Frisk that didn’t want to be alone for so long- some of which could bring the kid to panic attacks after so many hours. So while he was pretty certain leaving them alone wouldn’t be a death sentence and… probably wouldn’t end with disaster like a burning down house, he couldn’t fathom how Frisk might take being left alone for an entire day.

The kid always had abandonment problems, no matter the timeline. He’d heard them mumble or seen them sign to themselves the phrase ‘but no one came’ countless, countless times.

Well… his work load today wasn’t that big, not at all, really.

Sooo…

He decided to take the kid with him.

He laughed all morning as Papyrus bundled the kid up- apparently Papyrus remembered humans needed warmth, which Sans had almost forgotten again.

The taller skeleton had ranted at Sans from the minute they’d started rousing the half asleep child, listing like a worried parent reminders- “-AND DO NOT FORGET TO MAKE SURE THEY EAT SOMETHING ON THE WAY FOR BREAKAST AS MY STUDIES ON HUMAN HUNTING HAVE LEAD ME TO THE KNOWLEDGE THAT THEY MUST EAT AT LEAST THREE FULL MEALS A DAY, BUT THE GREASE AT GRILLBYS IS UNACCEPTABLE! I SHALL PACK THE CHILD A FULL MEAL OF SPAGETTI! OH, AND SANS, BE SURE TO-” And on and on he went as he picked up the still mostly asleep human, standing them on the couch and carefully tucking them into an old hoodie Sans hadn’t warn in years, and then a second plastic jacket made better for snow; it was probably Papyrus’ at some point based on the size, but it definitely hadn’t been warn in years if it ever had been. No less he zipped the kid up in the bright red monstrosity and proceeded to hunt down an old scarf he’d warn before he had his scarf-cape and bundled it around them before retrieving an old pair of mittens, pecking around like a concerned mother hen.

“You’re gunna be late to see Undyne at this rate, bro.” Sans chuckled, leaning on the back of the couch, he found it kind of cute, watching Pap baby the kid. Frisk was barely paying attention, just letting Papyrus bundle them up over the borrowed pajama clothing Sans had given them to use.

When Papyrus went to stand up and respond to Sans, the tiny human’s arms caught him around the back of his neck and as the skeleton stood, the human went up with him, attaching their legs behind his back as their head fell on his shoulder.

Papyrus looked surprised to have a half awake koala human attached to him.

“You’re so nice.” Frisk mumbled as they settled their cheek against his collar bone and yawned. “s’ cool.”

Papyrus blushed at the genuine murmurs.

Sans grinned.

Definitely cute.

“SANS, YOU HAD BETTER TAKE REALLY GOOD CARE OF THIS HUMAN!” Papyrus huffed, one bone arm going up around the sleepy kid, reluctant to try and put them down. “I’VE HALF THE MIND TO KEEP THEM MYSELF!”

Of course, he wouldn’t. Papyrus was anything but dumb, and knew that if he took Frisk with _him_ to work, he wouldn’t be able to bring them home again. Undyne would certainly take the captured human. But according to what Sans had told him, an old friend had made Sans promise to keep Frisk with him, and Papyrus would not jeopardize Sans trust levels with a friend he made a promise to. Sans had very few friends close enough that he would make a promise for- Sans _hated_ promises.- and Papyrus wouldn’t make his brother break one. For now, Papyrus knew the human should not meet Undyne.

Unwillingly he started to untangle the koala child as his shorter brother stepped around the couch; they’d all leave at the same time, as soon as the kid was deemed ready to head into the snow, but from the door they would be parting ways.

Papyrus walked toward Sans who now waited by the door, setting the child with half lidded, sleep heavy eyes on their feet beside him. He took the child’s hand and set it on the edge of Sans’ jacket pockets, and the mitten-ed hand instinctively tightened its grip on it. “DO NOT LET GO OF MY BROTHER, HE IS A BONE HEAD, HUMAN. HE WILL PROBABLY LOSE YOU. IF THAT HAPPENED, DO NOT FEAR, HE WILL PROBABLY FIND YOU AND IF NOT, THEN THE GREAT PAPYRUS WILL, FOR SURE! BUT DON’T LET GO OF HIM UNTIL YOU GET THERE, JUST FOR THE SAKE OF IT, HUMAN CHILD!”

Frisk nodded, and although the blinding bright red scarf covered the lower half of their face, both skeleton brothers could tell they smiled at him in response as their little hand tightened even more, taking his words of wisdom to heart.

“VERY GOOD.” Papyrus grinned and lightly patted the child’s head, his grin stretching when they smiled even wider at the action.

Sans laughed and his hand popped out of the pocket the child had a hold on, ruffling the kid’s hair. “Alright, bucko, let take-your-human-to-work-day begin.”

Frisk’s sleepy expression perked up a bit when they looked up at Sans, nodding enthusiastically as Papyrus opened the door- he was giving the kid another glance over, like making sure he had bundled them up enough. “SANS- MAYBE YOU SHOULD BRING THEM A BLANKET TOO- ITS VERY COLD OUT AND-”

“S’fine, bro, s’fine.” Sans still found it hilarious how much of a mom Papyrus could be. “Kid’s looking good and warm, they’ll be fine, they’re a big tough kid.”

But because Sans felt a little nervous about dragging a young child with him into the snow, and because he didn’t know much about humans and their warmth needs- especially at a younger age- he did pick up Frisk’s neatly folded blanket and pillow from the couch with a little magic. Cause… you know… humans can freeze to death and Sans doesn’t really know anything about that, being a skeleton, so Papyrus might be right. “You still do the nap time thing at your age, kiddo?”

Frisk looked curiously at the floating pillow and blanket stacked one atop the other and approaching them smoothly. Then their brow furrowed thoughtfully.

“m’not allowed to.” Frisk pointed upward. They meant above ground, they weren’t allowed to up there. “s’ hard to stay up s’mtimes.” They blushed and looked down.

Sans smile ticked down a notch, but then back up. “Well ya aint up there, kid, in fact your with the world’s laziest skeleton. There will be lots of naps and I’d be more than happy to have my personal soft space heater take one with me.”

Papyrus had focused in on the human with that… _look_ of his again, that psychoanalytical expression, but promptly straightened up and posed dramatically.

“AS MUCH AS I AM LOATHE TO ADMIT IT, BUT NAPS CAN BE IMPORTANT! PLEASE TAKE YOUR NAPS, MY HUMAN FRIEND, THEY ARE IMPORTANT FOR A GROWING YOUTH! JUST TRY NOT TO BE AS LAZY AS MY LAZY BONES BROTHER AND NAP RESPONSIBLY!” and with a shifty glance out the door, added, “AND IF YOU GET TOO COLD OUTSIDE OR YOU CANNOT TAKE NAPS IN THE SNOW, HUMAN, PLEASE MAKE SURE SANS TAKES YOU HOME BECAUSE YOUR NAPS AND YOUR WARMTH ARE VITAL AND OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE TO YOUR HEALTH.” And with a further worried expression, “AND IF YOU GET LOST MAKE SURE YOU STAY VERY WARM AND CALL MINE OR SANS CELL PHONE AND YELL VERY LOUDLY SO WE CAN TRY AND FIND YOU IF YOU ARE NEAR BY- OH AND IF YOU GET HUNGRY WHILE OUT I GAVE SANS THE SPAGETTI FOR YOUR LUNCH, AND IF YOU’RE STILL HUNGRY AFTER THAT DO NOT HESITATE TO TELL MY BROTHER I'M SURE HE WILL TAKE YOU TO GET MORE FOOD-”

“Alright, _mom_ , we gotcha.” Sans chuckled warmly, “You’re definitely going to be late if you don’t get going, bro.”

Papyrus made a noise of distress and looked toward the clock in their living room, breaking into a sweat. “OH- I AM ALREADY A MINUTE LATE!”

The taller skeleton proceeded to start a sprint out into the snow with a jumble of words, some of which were ‘Undyne’ ‘angry’ and ‘oh no’. Sans and Frisk followed out, Sans closing the door before turning to watch his brother run through the snow. With a snicker, Sans cupped his hands to either side of his perma-smile, “RUN, PAPY, RUN!”

“I AM ALREADY RUNNING, BROTHER!” Papyrus’ voice echoed back, “WATCH THE CHILD CAREFULLY!”

Sans chuckled again; his brother was great.

“Alright, kiddo, first job’a the day: Grillby’s. Let’s get going, shall we?” he offered them his grin, and they smiled back brightly- and still quite tiredly- and the two of them trudged into the fresh fallen snow into snowdin.


	11. L O V E

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LV, LOVE, Level Of ViolEnce.

Sans and company- being the plus one of a single human child- arrived at the wood-built bar in the center of town shortly after leaving. They’d only gotten distracted once, when a startled snowdrake popped out of a snow poff the kid tripped on.

Sans hadn’t interfered- hadn’t even had the chance, really, as while the kid dodged most of the attacks- one of which did managed to injure their arm- they had quickly managed to win the creature over with a few chuckles at his jokes.

It seems the ones Sans cracked weren’t the only jokes the kid enjoyed.

Though, Sans puffed internally, his own jokes were way better.

Even if this snowy kid’s were pretty funny…

Eh… anyway…

After that, Sans had muttered about the kid’s slightly bleeding arm and the still drowsy child had shrugged it off.

“v’ad worse.”

The fact they were so used to being injured could be attributed to countless resets of injuries and dying, or because of fights and possible aboveground treatment pre-fall in this timeline itself. He didn’t really want to think about either, and took the mostly asleep child by the hand- the one with the uninjured arm- and lead them the short remaining distance through the town.

In the satisfying warmth of grillby’s, the child let out a breath and leaned their head on Sans as they passed into the door. The place was only just opened; only one or two other patrons situated at booths for breakfast. The sentry crew would show up for their pre-work meal soon, too.

Sans brought the kid up to the bar, lifting their easy weight up onto the counter. Grillby popped out of the door shortly after, most likely having heard the front door close, bottle of ketchup in hand and fully expecting Sans. The man of fire made his way over, glasses tilting to the smaller thing sitting on his counter. He set the Sans-morning-usual bottle on the counter, looking to his regular customer. “…?”

“Heya, Grillby.” Sans offered him a wide grin and a finger gun. He looked back to Frisk. “Alright, kiddo, I'm definitely not as good as by bro, but I’ll give this a _shot_.” He turned his finger gun to the kid and fired. Frisk giggled. Grillby scoffed quietly, although observing curiously.

Sans’ eye sockets narrowed on the arm and he slowly unraveled them from the jackets and scarf, until they were left with the short sleeved white T-shirt they’d been given from Sans to sleep in considering their sweater had been soaked with melted snow and seeped with blood. Papyrus had run it in the washer but no one remembered to put it in the drier and it was still damp this morning.

The exposed gash wasn’t too deep, but Sans frowned at the red smears over their tan skin. “Well, here goes utter crap.” He really wasn’t a good healer.

But he picked both his hands out of his pockets and they hovered over the child’s arm and a faint blue cloud of magic spread out of his fingertips and bone palms, a sparkly mist that surrounded and filled the injury and the air between them. Tiny sparks went off and Frisk flinched- Sans knew his healing probably didn’t feel quite nearly as nice as Papyrus’, but, hey, at least it was working; he watched their skin stitch back together slowly but surely.

“Alright. That’s the best I got for a patch job.” Sans was sweating when he lowered one hand and his magic faded away; one bone thumb ran over pinkend skin, feeling the indent of a scar and some still not-fully healed patches. Sans’ sweat increased. “Hhh- pap’s gunna kill me, and it’s not even been 30 minutes yet, kid.”

Frisk frowned and shrank, and their fingers fidgeted with one another. “m-m’sorry.”

Grillby looked between the two and, much to Sans’ surprise, reached a fire-constructed hand out and pressed it over the damage. Frisk flinched in expectation, but grillby’s fire was merely a soft warmth, and as the orange licks of flame glowed a low red shade, Frisk’s posture relaxed again with a quiet breath.

When Grillby’s hand was removed, there was no sign of an injury having ever occurred.

“Grillby, my man.” Sans looked to the fiery bar owner in the suit. “That was cool, didn’t know you could do that.”

Huh. God-knows-how-many iterations of coming here almost every day of his life and Grillby hadn’t ever healed anyone. You learn something new every day, after all. To think Sans thought he knew everything about these repeating timeline cycles.

Grillby looked to Sans and the skeleton knew he would be smiling if he had the visible expression. “… … … seen some things in my years, old friend.”

“For a guy on fire, you sure are pretty _cool_.” Sans snickered, running a bone finger over the nonexistent injury before laughing and starting to re-dress the kid in one of the jackets, and gathered up the other one and the scarf. Grillby’s warmth and that of the building was ridiculously effective in putting Frisk to sleep. Drowsy, they had turned to slowly falling over, asleep where they sat.

Sans chuckled and scooped the kid off the counter, moving them over toward an open booth, furthest from the door. Settling them down, he muttered, “Go on and take that nap Pap was talkin about, kid. You look _worked to the bone_ and we haven’t even done anything yet.”

They took his orders and folded up the scarf he set down on the table to use as a pillow. He threw the second jacket over them as a blanket, smiling.

When Sans turned back to the bar, and looked at Grillby, the fire monster had that sense of smiling again- though, more amused. He motioned with a wave to the child as Sans approached.

“Think you can keep a secret, Grillby?” it was more a joke between them, though there was no joke in the words, because of course Grillby didn’t talk much, and Grillby knew everything. He was a bartender. He’d seen everyone in snowdin and many other places drunk and he’d heard them talk about everything from how bad their feet hurt to who was having an affair with who and beyond. He knew everything, and about everyone, and grillby was a locked safe that rarely talked.

So of course, grillby could keep a secret; grillby gave Sans a ‘look’ (with no eyes. How odd.) and Sans laughed like he’d said a pun instead of asked a simple question.

“That there, grillby, is my new ward. You know the old lady at the door? She came out yesterday and gave me her kid.” Sans informed him, holding up a single finger in a matter-of-fact manor. “Made me promise to keep them safe, too.”

Grillby nodded solemnly. He knew Sans well when it came to promises.

“Here’s the real kicker; kid’s a _human_.”

Grillby’s flames lowered and rose in surprise and his head turned to aim his glasses to the kid, whom and curled up tight under the blanket and by now was entirely asleep.

“I know, right?” Sans chuckled. “s’like real young, though. Pap didn’t quite believe me either, at first.”

Frisk was hard to grasp as a human in other timelines, sometimes, too. They could often wander in more densely related towns like Waterfall or Snowdin because they looked so small and non threatening that most of the towns people of those areas didn’t even think something so small could be the creatures in their history books that banished them into the underground and beat them in a war. They even wore stripped sweats, out of luck; that was a monster child thing. It only helped them blend even more.

At this age, Frisk didn’t even seem a possible candidate for a human at all. From the focus Grillby was exuding while he watched the small human, Sans could tell he was still weighing the thought himself.

“Anyway, Grillby, man, you should have seen Pap. Bro’s taken to the kid like Washu to soap.” Sans grabbed the ketchup bottle from earlier off the counter upon remembering it. Grillby turned back to Sans. “Pap was _late_ leaving this morning, so busy mom-ing it up. It was _awesome_. Papyrus would make a real good parent.” Sans added thoughtfully.

Then Sans chuckled. “Not that he could ever have kids,” he started cracking up wildly before he could keep going, and trying between laughs to get out “Because he can’t ever get” and then failed into breathless and partly maniacal laughter, “To the bone-” and then for the next 10 solid minutes repeatedly tried and failed finish his sentence.

Oh god that had been the best night in ever.

Grillby got the jist of it and shook his head, although missing the knowledge on the previous conversation left him entirely out of the loop on just why Sans found it _so_ funny.

“Grillby, my man, this kid has made these last two days _awesome_ , you don’t understand.” Sans shook his head, smiling wide. With a some-what giggle, he added almost wistfully, “I never noticed I missed having a baby bones around; Paps’ gotten a lot more grown then I thought, ya know?”

Grillby nodded in agreement silently and continued drying glasses. He glanced back to the kid and then to Sans. The silent question felt obvious, even without words.

“What’ll I do about head of the guard, eh?” Grillby tipped his head; Sans had guessed the question right. Sans sighed. “I hear ya. Undyne will be… tough.”

The kid on a normal basis was tough and could withstand Undyne’s throttle a couple times, long enough to win her over and make nice (with the help of The Great Papyrus). But it normally, almost _always_ , took the kid a couple deaths and saves to get through each part.

Sans wasn’t keen on letting the kid die over and over- and he didn’t even know if the kid _could_ manage it, as small as they were. Frisk’s HP- he’d glanced it over when the snowdrift had hit them- was significantly lower than normal, even with the added armer that the layers of jackets had provided.

There was one other key thing Sans had noticed in this Frisk, too…

Their LV, i.e. LOVE, i.e. Level Of Violence.

Frisk always came down with a LV 1.

It was standard.

Sans saw their score this time.

0.

He hadn’t even known that was possible.

It was _baffling._

What did a 0 mean?

I mean, even _Papyrus_ had a 1.

Who ever heard of someone with a LV of 0?

_0?_

Did that mean the kid couldn’t even fight?

Was this an age thing? Did people just not get LV at all without actually doing some violence until they turned a certain age? Sans had never thought about that. He just knew everyone he knew had at _least_ a 1. And he didn’t know any kids younger than the norm Frisk age.

Back on topic, does a child the size and age of Frisk with a LV of _0_ ever stand a chance against _Undyne_ , determined or otherwise?

“God, Grillby, I don’t even want to think about it.” Sans pressed a palm of bones to his forehead. “Papy’s not gunna bring Frisk up to Undyne, and Undyne doesn’t come over much ever since Papyrus started having the cooking lessons over there- so, it should be fine.”

Grillby sparked a bit. He wasn’t so sure.

Sans sighed and squeezed out the whole bottle of ketchup into his mouth. “it’s too early to want to switch to the actual alcohol, _sparky_ , don’t _put me out_ like this.”

Grillby huffed and replaced a new ketchup on the counter with a pointed indignation at the flame puns. Sans chuckled and jumped off his stool. Well, time to work. If there was any of his jobs he actually put work into, it was the Grillby’s job. It’s how he pays off his tab, plus it helps out his favorite pub owner.

“Shoot a look over to the kid for me every now and again, you mind?” Sans asked as he adjusted his jacket, before going back to the booth again. “If they wake up, you aint gotta worry much about’em. They’re pretty _chill_.” He chuckled at himself as he adjusted the jacket blanket on them to keep out said chill, before huffing in dissatisfaction and pulling off his own jacket and adding it on top of theirs.

When Sans looked back to grillby, the fire man’s flame was burning a little more red than normal, and he nodded seriously. After a second, Sans tinted blue. “Hey, cut it out there, you _warm_ -hearted jerk, I know the kids cute but don’t rope me into the cute category.”

“… … … your adorable with them, Sans.”

“awh, burn off.” Sans chuckled in mock indignation, waving the man of flame off before he stuck his hands in his pants pockets, heading through the door to the back room.

Grillby crackled in amusement as he went.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so weirdly attracted to GasterXReader fics, but like. there are NONE aside from underfell. i just want Undertale. feed me plssss why has anyone WRITTEN ANYYYY
> 
> so of course, im quietly writing my own that i dont know if i will be posting, but, if any of you happen to, ya know, know some... link me?


	12. D O G

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> lookit all these dogs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Grillby is good with small children.

Grillby was serving Doggo his usual morning breakfast when he noticed a stir in the farther corner booth.

Some of the dog crew had gone over earlier, eyeing the child curiously, and had deemed it a very cute monster; they’d been mostly interested in the fact that they were curled up with Sans’ jacket and had barked quiet questions to one another as if their fellow doggy sentry members would have the answers; but after a bit Grillby had thrummed a glass cup on the counter for their attention and given them a vague warning look, motioning to Sans’ jacket.

The dogs slunk away from the human quite quickly; Monsters could feel one another’s magic and as lazy and calm as Sans was, they all knew how deep his magic ran in him despite his shallow HP. If Grillby was offering them the warning it was probably not a good idea to wake the child. No one expected Sans would do something rash, but, even without his powerful magic Sans had a way of getting back people who displeased him. Normally with pranks. No one was looking for his shitty pranks aimed at them.

Grillby looked over at the stir in the corner as he set down the tray of dog treats, bacon and sausage, and the poker-playing Doggo looked up curiously from Grillby’s distraction as did the others in his game.

 The child had slid out of their booth and looked around with a drowsy expression. They quietly pulled off their jacket, and the dogs whispered as they noted that the white shirt they’d warn under it was certainly of Sans-brand, and then everyone watched curiously as the child folded up the previous jacket and snuggly slipped on Sans’ blue one, snuggling into it.

The tiny smile the child produced as they snuggle into it made most of the dogs bark in awe and Grillby’s fire tinted redder. _Adorable._

Grillby quietly made his way over as the child stacked the folded jacket with the other- also folded- and waited patiently as they added the scarf, pillow and their mittens to their pile of folded clothes.

Frisk then noticed Grillby glowing behind them and jumped a tad, spinning around.

The smile they offered him when they recognized the fire monster was so warm, it rivaled his red shading.

Frisk must have recognized his not-present-smile that he would have were he capable of smiling in reaction, because they smiled wider yet.

He offered the child his hand and they took it with their smile in full power mode, and the dogs occupying the room let out quiet howls and mutters to each other over the cuteness as Grillby guided the child to the counter.

Grillby went around as they climbed up the bar stool, and produced a laminated child’s menu of pictures for breakfast; monster kid and some of the younger Bun people occasionally came for breakfast. Grillby motioned from Frisk to it, and the child beamed, looking it over.

When they had pointed out their option of orange juice and scrambled eggs, Grillby nodded kindly and set off to retrieve it for them.

It really only took him maybe 2, 3, minutes but by the time he had come back out, the dogs had swarmed the child.

Greater dog had happily left his armor suit in his chair and found his way into a ball on the child’s lap. Dogamy and Dogaressa had taken two seats on the kids left and were chattering back and forth between each other and then to the child, referring to Frisk as an ‘adorably weird puppy’. Lesser dog was leaning happily against the child’s back and nuzzling them with his muzzle. Doggo had taken a seat of Frisk’s other side and continued reading his news paper, but judging from the dog treat Frisk was examining curiously with an almost ridiculous amount of awe for a pet cookie, he had given it to them as an offering of doggie affection.

Grillby stopped and caught the door with his heal before it could close and alert any of them that he was back, beckoning to Sans- whom was stacking boxes and sucking down a bottle of ketchup in the back room behind him, but looked up curiously at Grillby.

Sans poked his head through the door, got an eye full, and started shaking his head with a raging grin and a surplus of chuckles. “That is the cutest thing I’ve seen since Pap was a baby bones and made me a snow-poff-spaghetti plate.”

Most of the dogs bounced up, startled, and when someone yipped in fright, everyone darted and ran back to their own table except greater dog, who was quite asleep under the slow pets of Frisk’s free hand.

Sans snorted and stepped out of the back room, going around the counter to Frisk’s side. Grillby came back to Frisk behind it and set down their plate and juice. Frisk beamed excitedly, setting down their ‘interesting’ dog treat gift. “Th’nk you.” They mumbled with a quiet warmth. There where whines of cuteness from the direction of the dogs and Grillby glowed happily as Sans chuckled.

“Pap would be jealous of how popular you are, pal.” Sans chuckled.

Frisk looked at him with wide eyes, shocked. “Paps’ cooler.”

Sans grinned wider. “Your both cool, bucko.”

Frisk flushed, turning embarrassedly to their eggs with a stutter that failed to form any words. Mumbling, they repeated, “Pap’s cooler.”

Sans laughed, and then watched with his own wide eyes as Frisk carefully reached out and grabbed the ketchup bottle he’d brought with him and added quite a bit to their scrambled eggs.

“ _He’s corrupted the strange puppy._ ” Dogamy’s wooed whisper came from the table of dogs.

“Kid.” Sans set a bony hand on their shoulder. “You’re gunna go far in life.” He repeated himself proudly.

Frisk looked up from re-scrambling their eggs with the ketchup, eyes sparkling. “Do you feel that in ‘ur bones?”

The sound of saddened howling and Grillby sparking with disappointed chuckles was almost enough for Sans to tear up, and he laughed almost maniacally. “ _tibia_ honest, kiddo, I do.” He pat his chest and then winked, “after all, I'm all heart and no brains.” He knocked on his skull, and a hollow echo returned in reaction.

Frisk broke into wild giggles and buried their face into the zipped blue jacket they were borrowing.

Sans beamed proudly and pat the kid with a beaming smile. He dropped off his seat, “enjoy the breakfast, kiddo, I’ll pay for it for ya. ‘sides, I here Grillby’s eggs are _eggcellent._ ”

More saddened howls.

Frisk beamed back at Sans, nodding in agreement, then looked at their plate and responded, “They’ good. go down _over_ easy.” They glanced to Sans for approval.

Grillby let out a puff, his equivalent of a snort. Sans cackled and gave the kid a thumbs up. “That’s keeping your sunny side up, buddy.” He laughed and so did Frisk as he disappeared into the back room again.

Frisk looked to Grillby, smiling with a pink tinge of embarrassment, and he let out a few crackles of amusement, shaking his head.

Frisk shoveled in some ketchuped eggs and lesser dog bounded over to take a seat at Frisk’s side, and Frisk shifted between petting the two dogs in their company with a happy smile.


	13. S N O W D I N

Sans and Frisk- re-dressed in their applied layers for warmth, left the establishment with waves of goodbye as the dogs and Grillby called and waved goodbye back, respectively. Sans, once more in his blue jacket as he belonged, lead the kid out of the pub, mittened hand in bone hold.

By now Frisk had woken up much more and as they passed every villager in town, Frisk smiled big and bright and the friendly town’s people smiled and waved back.

Sans could feel his rumors crawling down his back as people pointed out him and the tiny child, and thought about the group of gossiping canines going around town talking about Sans’ tiny companion. He could see the headlines; Daddy Sans, Town Mystery, Adopts Tiny Weird Child, Arrives Out Of Nowhere. He wondered if suddenly acquiring a mystery child from nowhere, of a monster breed no ones familiar with, boosted his ‘the town cool mystery guy’ persona?

On the bright side, everyone still assumed Frisk was a monster, even now that everyone was getting a look at Frisk in the middle of town. Before, Frisk’s closest connection out to the town of snowdin had been from peaking between the curtains at the window. Frisk seemed elated to smile at so many people. And the people were just as well receiving; tiny Frisk had a knack for making friends as good as Papyrus.

They even stopped at the Christmas tree and the child enthusiastically helped the bear monster hang some red and green ornaments. Sans lent his hand helping out, replacing some of the colored light bulbs that had burned out over time and lifting the kid up with magic to hang some at the top, far out of both their short reaches, and Frisk giggled wildly the whole time they were suspended.

Frisk also ran into Monster Kid. The sweater wearing child was entranced with the younger one- “wow! You're so little! You’re so little you aren’t even big enough to be wearing a stripped sweater yet!” little did the armless child know that Frisk’s only owned clothing was indeed a pair of shorts and a stripped sweater.

No less, as Sans and Frisk rejoined hands and started on again down the open snowy streets, Monster Kid bounced along energetically at Frisk’s side, filling in Frisk’s preference to not talk with even more chatter for the both of them. Frisk listened with a smile and seemed to enjoy the company, and frankly Monster Kid reminded Sans of a younger Papyrus, so it was comfortable to listen to.

The next stop was the Ice Wolf, and Sans kept up the ice work for a solid hour while the wolf monster- who needed even less sleep to function then The Great Papyrus- went to sleep for the day. This was admittedly a pretty important job, so Sans didn’t quite slack on it, considering this ice went to cool the most important machine in the underground. The Core. Sans had helped in that thing’s being built, he wasn’t going to let the damn thing break from overheating. Even if it _was_ the core that caused the death of-

Uh, well, that was best not thought about.

Sans kept the ice moving, lifting it with blue magic with his usual smile, and watched as Frisk and Monster kid started off into a Snowball fight.

Ice Wolf returned after the hour fully rested (the thought of only sleeping one hour a day gave Sans a head ache, jeeze…), taking back over with a loud howl and a doggy grin to Sans and the two children as they left. Monster Kid howled back with so much vigor he ended up falling over into a pile of snow, and all present laughed good humouredly as he jumped back up.

Kid eventually had to part ways, though, because Frisk and Sans’ next stop was his sentry post, and Kid’s old man was pretty serious about the no-go rule in terms of heading out the way of the ruins. There were a lot of puzzles and some could be pretty dangerous, so that made sense to Sans.

Then again… he was taking his own charge out there.

Uhm… was this a bad idea?

No, nah, its fine. Frisk-o was sticking with him, he knew how to avoid the traps. And Frisk didn’t even need to worry about the sentries. All the dogs had already met them at grillby’s and taken quite the liking to the kid. Its fine.

And it was fine. The kid let go once or twice to check out the random snow poff near Greater Dog’s post and found the dog in one- boy, was the kid surprised, it was pretty funny- and ensued a lot of licking, stick throwing- why do they carry that stick around, anyway?- and petting.

Lots of pets. They stopped to pet everyone. From the dog couple to lesser dog to doggo. Lesser dog’s neck would never be the same again.

Papyrus wasn’t due back to his own post for the day, he was still off with Undyne, but Frisk seemed to like his oddly-crafted post and the words all over it so they stopped there, too.

They had reach Sans’ post about an hour ago, and Frisk had initiated their game of copy cat again. It was cute and he found himself doing random things just to see how Frisk would imitate them, and as he walked around making sentry rounds, and they followed.

At least, they _were_ following. Sans had taken a left turn to head back into the little post. Frisk kept going straight, though their gaze followed him. they watched him in that same childish way they looked around the room or around the town when they walked, and it was… honestly, a little weird.

Then, they looked ahead, as if expecting him to still be there, and stopped. They blinked a couple of times.

A look of panic spread across their face, and they looked around at fixed intervals, like looking directly at things, but there was nothing in particular at every place.

“…Sans?”

Uh… so, this was… new. It’s like they had gotten lost.

“Yeah, kid?” At his confused response, they jerked and their gaze pinpointed on him again, relieved. “You, uh… you alright?”

They looked behind them again, and their gaze followed something that wasn’t there, and it kept following forward. The child shook their head, and looked back at Sans, quickly bouncing over the snow to him. They smiled.

Sans rose a brow bone at them. “You sure you don’t need another nap, bucko?”

Their smile faltered. Then brightened. Then neutralized. Quickly, their hand reached out and touched him. They calmed down, reassured, when their hand touched over top his sternum and felt his solid presence.

“Kid, seriously, what on earth are you doing?”

A tiny hand pointed to his left. He followed it.

There was nothing there.

“You see it?” They asked him tentatively.

“Uh… what should I be seeing?”

The kid looked at him nervously, and his smile dipped down a little, unsettled.

“Nnnn.”

Well that’s a… helpful response, frisko, thank you for that.

Frisk lapsed into quiet. Even with prodding and a few questions, Frisk didn’t explain. In the end, Sans felt creeped out. He grabbed the child’s hand, feeling a strange sense of being watched, and asked semi-tersely, “Let’s get home, yeah? Kids like you should be out of the snow, at home _chilling_.”

A smile escaped the child and Sans laughed, “Yeah, see? There we go, I knew you were _cool_.” They giggle, and with a flicker of icy blue magic, Frisk found themselves floating off the ground and settled on his back.  “Though as _cool_ as you are, kiddo, I’d much prefer to be warm and at home right about now. I'm feeling chilled to the _bone_.” Frisk cracked up in a fit of laughter as Sans started up the path, and he grinned proudly as he felt the vibrations of their laugh as they buried their face into one of his shoulder bones. He laughed, too, which made Frisk laugh harder, and then he laughed harder too, and the whole walk back was a giggling mess that seemed to amuse everyone they passed in Snowdin.

This kid’s laugh was just infectious. He soon forgot about the nothingness that was ‘watching’ him.


	14. C O P Y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dynamics

When he and the kid reached the house, Papyrus was already inside as they entered the front door. After tailing sans all day, the child was quick to locate the taller skeleton and practically attach themselves as a shadow to his side.

Papyrus, being Papyrus, was of course elated at their return. He chattered excitedly about his training session followed by cooking session with Undyne and their short mission to the capital as he whisked the child up to stand on the coffee table and helped remove their coats and brush them free of lingering snow. Then he elicited information on Frisk’s day- which mostly came from Sans, seeing as the child was not nearly as talkative as Papyrus.

“I AM QUITE PROUD, BROTHER. YOU SEEMED TO HAVE BEEN PARTICULALRLY NOT LAZY, EVEN IF YOU RETURNED FROM YOUR SENTRY STATION TWO HOURS TOO EARLY.”

“It must be your awesome work ethic wearing on me, bro.”

“BUT OF COURSE! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, AM NOTHING IF NOT AN INSPIRATIONAL MOTIVATOR.”

“That’s real true, bro.”

And truthful it was. Sans grinned warmly.

His brother was so cool.

Papyrus cheered in delight and picked up Frisk, who was trying to figure out how to get off the coffee table (it was tall, unusually so, like all of the skeleton brother’s furniture; courtesy of Papyrus. Bigger was always better, he had declared; I mean, have you _seen_ their kitchen sink?), and swung them lightly to the ground, receiving a giggle at the twirl from the tiny child.

“SMALL HUMAN, I DO BELIEVE YOUR CLOTHES ARE CLEAN AND DRY. DO YOU WISH THE RETURN OF YOUR SWEATER? IT IS IMPECCABLY CLEAN, BECAUSE LIKE MOST THINGS, THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS A SKILLED CLOTHING-WASHER.”

Frisk nodded, a spark of relief in the child’s eyes at the prospect of their sweater’s return. Sans wondered why. That was another thing that varied timeline to timeline. Sometimes it was just Frisk’s favorite sweater. Other times it turned out Toriel makes it for them in the ruins. Other times, in timelines where frisk’s family died before they fall into the hole as an orphan, its normally a gift from or once was one of their parents’ sweaters. Other times, it was just a sweater and Frisk didn’t have any attachment to it at all.

Papyrus trotted up the stairs to retrieve a laundry basket, Frisk following his every step like his tail (although a little slower at mounting each step than him) as Sans hopped onto the couch. He returned downstairs, sitting on the floor. Frisk sat, once again their assumption of a ‘respectful distance away’, copying Papyrus’ crossed legged position.

After a few moments Papyrus found the sweater amongst other clothes, and rather cheerfully called, “THINK FAST, LITTLE HUMAN!’

The force of his throw bowled them over but they caught it no less, laughing as they rocked onto their back and then rocked back up to their sitting position.

The house always seemed warmer when the kid laughed like that. It made Sans smirk and Papyrus grin, and Frisk continued on with tiny giggles as they pulled the sweater on over the still-borrowed white shirt.

Sans proceeded to watch- not even acting like he was going to be bothered to get up and help- as his brother started to fold and sort laundry, chattering on about anything and everything he saw fit. Sans watched as Frisk crept a couple inches closer every now and again, steadily crawling over the floor, until they’d gotten around Papyrus and to the basket.

They looked kind of like a cat trying to sneak food as they tentatively reached into the basket, keeping a very close eye on Papyrus like they somewhat expected him to tell them to stop or perhaps yell at them.

Sans watched Papyrus unfold and refold the same shirt twice, waiting for Frisk without addressing them and their actions, giving them time to  snatch a shirt of their own from the basket before turning himself to grab another clothing article when they’d scurried back away with their prize. Interesting dynamic, Sans noted. His brother was particularly good at dealing with the really vague streaks of nervousness the kid showed.

Sans felt pride welling like a warm glow in his ribcage for it.

And affection when Frisk, after quickly crawling about half the distance away then before, watched Papyrus and tried to mimic his quick shirt-folding techniques, unfolding and re folding the shirt repeatedly, trying to match him perfectly. Papyrus was just finishing up the last pair of shorts onto Sans’ pile of clothing when frisk picked up their long-time work and crawled back to Papyrus’ side, setting it down next to the piles and looking at him nervously for approval.

Their own folding was quite sloppy, even with all that re-doing. Papyrus grinned. “YOU ARE QUITE A HELPFUL FOLDER, MY HUMAN FRIEND! YOU SHOULD HELP THE GREAT PAPYRUS MORE OFTEN!”

Frisk sat up straighter and grinned, nodding quickly with a modest red bloom in their expression. “EXCELLENT! WE WILL BE LAUNDRY PALS FROM HENCE FORTH!” Papyrus declared and Frisk bounced excitedly. Papyrus looked to Sans pointedly. “PERHAPS YOU WILL JOIN US NEXT TIME IN FOLDING YOUR OWN LAUNDRY, LAZY BONES!”

“…nah. I fold.”

“BUT YOU DO NOT FOLD?” Papyrus questioned in confusion. Sans grinned at him, and it steadily grew until Papyrus finally realized it was a pun with horror. “SANS!”

“Bro, you’re smiling again.” Sans’ smirk got wider.

“I AM NOT. UGH! FRISK, SMALL HUMAN, I AM SO SORRY YOU HAD TO DEAL WITH THIS BONE HEAD ALL DAY!”

Frisk only giggled, bouncing up to their feet and climbing up onto the couch beside Sans.

“IT WOULD SEEM YOU HAVE ABANDONED ME FOR THIS PROCRASTINATOR. I HAVE BEEN BETRAYED BY MY OWN LAUNDRY PARTNER.” Woahed Papyrus dramatically.

“I like to think of it more like _pun_ crastinating, bro.”

“THAT WAS TERRIBLE!”

“Yeah, tibia honest, that one _was_ a bit of a _stretch_.”

“I.” Papyrus stated with a tone not too far from disgust, “AM GOING TO GO COOK DINNER.” And stormed off.

Frisk squeaked some sort of noise beside him, and Sans chuckled as the child climbed back down and raced after him to try and help again. Sans decided that after a day of actually working, he wanted a nap.

By the time sans was woken, dinner had been completed. He woke with a slight jump to Frisk leaning over him, perched on the back of the couch curiously.

“woah. You trying to give me a heart attack, kid?” he clutched the proper spot of his ribcage like he had such a beating organ.

“How do you snore if you don’t have a nose?”

Sans cracked a wicked grin. “Magic, bucko.” Oh how he loved this weird child.

“BROTHER, HUMAN! THERE IS A FEAST OF THE GREATEST STANDARD OF PASTA IN HERE!”

“You got it, bro.” Sans chuckled, jumping off the couch and narrowly dodging Frisk’s head where they had still leaned over him. He grabbed the kid lightly around the waist, and they giggled the whole way as he carried them in, tucked like a football under his arm.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah its been a while since i updated this one


End file.
